


Unfurl Your Sails

by thatoneperson0000



Series: The Makings of a Human [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Decided to give Mihawk a backstory, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I don't know if there will be a lot of romance or not, M/M, Mihawk trying his best, Not sure how this'll turn out lol, Slow Build, Slow Burn, shanks being shanks honestly, to not kill Shanks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24302710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatoneperson0000/pseuds/thatoneperson0000
Summary: Dracule Mihawk was 13 years old when he escaped from invading pirates, a vow of vengeance rooted deep in his heart; 16 when he crashed into the Oro Jackson, and 30 when he became the world’s strongest swordsman.Or, in essence, a guide to dealing with invasive pirates and infuriating red heads.
Relationships: Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Dracule Mihawk
Series: The Makings of a Human [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761838
Comments: 29
Kudos: 100





	1. Beginning of what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am, starting another series. I hope it'll be between 5-10 chapters, though at the rate this is going, it might stretch out. Hopefully I can do one chapter per day, or every two days before my motivation dies.
> 
> Tt's been a while since I've written anything, so hopefully I do Mihawk and Shanks justice. Also, I've barely even looked at the Wano arc as a disclaimer, though I'm not going to go that far into canon. This will be mainly pre-canon era.
> 
> I wanted to write a lil something for Shanks and Mihawk, but then I decided to give Mihawk a backstory, and then Shanks came along too so here I am.

“Look, it’s that famous bounty hunter.” 

“Hey, don’t look, he might go for you—” 

At 13 years old (and a half), Mihawk had already created a famous name for himself in the East Blue through his encounters with pirates all over the sea. His rickety boat had brought him onto yet another island, this one by the name of Rujol. 

He moored his boat to the side of one of the wooden spires on the dock, his small ride looking tiny compared to the other boats that crowded the harbor. The city was straight up ahead, surrounded by dense jungle and a single snowy mountain towards the back. 

“He’s just an unarmed kid, what’s so fearsome about him?”

“It’s best not to underestimate someone who has such a reputation. Just keep on walking.” 

He walked through the town, ignoring the whispers that followed behind him as he checked out the various shops. His sword had broken yet again, its flimsy workmanship shattering under the blunt force of his blows—but what else could he afford, when he was barely living on the money he was earning already. 

Mihawk silently wished that the East Blue held bigger pirates, ones that would actually have a name attached to them. The pirates he had collected bounties were still all too weak, though after this island he was going to travel to West Blue through Reverse mountain. 

There’d been whisperings of a powerful pirate named “Storm-Bringer” around that area, his furious attacks powerful enough to create a full-blown gale between each strike. Mihawk felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine, though his face remained impassive as ever. 

“How much is this one,” he asked, pointing at a blue hilted sword inside the shop. It was displayed on the side of the shop, alongside other unassuming swords on the shelves. There were sharp cuts and small clouds imprinted in the hilt, though the blade was similar to the other swords—it wasn’t the most impressive one he’s seen, by far, but it seemed the best in the dingy shop. 

“Ah! You have good eyes—this one here is Raitoningu, a skillful graded sword!” The owner replied, leaning against the wooden counter of his shop, white hair pulled in a ponytail and floral shirt half-open lazily. 

“How much.” 

“300,000 berries,” the owner replied, looking unbothered by Mihawk’s curt nature. “Take it or leave it.” 

“Seems expensive for a skillful graded sword,” Mihawk replied, unsheathing the sword with a sharp _clink_. He held it in his right hand, swiping it in the air a few times, before holding its solid weight against his hand still. 

“This one has quite the history,” the owner started, lighting a cigarette. “It’s said that her first master fought 1,000 men at once in a thunderstorm, leaving behind a river of blood around her. Soon after, a bolt of lightning struck down upon her master, but when the dust cleared, the two were miraculously unharmed.” 

The owner’s eyes roved over Mihawk’s tattered wine-red shirt, the ragged holes lining his gray shorts. 

“Raitoningu was the one to absorb the lightning blast. According to legend, that is. Perhaps the rumors blew it up, or it never existed, who really knows,” he continued, flicking a piece of ash from the cigarette. “But if you don’t have the money, then you can go ahead and put it back on the shelf.” 

Mihawk swiped his thumb hard against the side of the blade, seeing a small cut appear on his thumb. A small bead of crimson flowed out, and he frowned. It wasn’t as deep as he’d expected. 

“You’re selling an unsharpened blade?” He asked, sharp eyes looking at the owner in the eyes. Said man walked forward, holding the sword between his hands to inspect it over.

He swiped it the same way, suddenly flinching back and dropping the sword when Raitoningu sliced into the fragile skin. Mihawk caught the sword quickly with one hand, seeing a few drops of blood fall onto the wooden floor. 

Suddenly, the owner burst out laughing.

“Kakaka, so this is who you’ve chosen, Raitoningu!” 

Mihawk wiped the blade clean with the long sleeves of his shirt, before sheathing the sword once more. The owner grinned at him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“Brat, I’ll give you a once-in-a-lifetime discount! 100,000 berries,” he announced. 

“Would 50,000 suffice?” Mihawk replied without hesitation, staring him down. 

Another laugh from the owner. 

“You’re a stubborn one! Alright, alright, it’s always interesting to see someone like you come by,” he replied with renewed enthusiasm. “Entertain an old man—what do you plan to do with her?”

Mihawk stilled at the question, hands around the hilt and sheath of Raitoningu. Then, he answered sincerely.

“I’m going to get stronger, until nobody has the strength to challenge me. That is my goal.” 

Then, he thought back. Along the way, he'll gain enough strength to free his hometown. 

* * *

He’d closed his eyes as soon as he’d set off from Rujol, the only items inside the boat a candle and his backpack. He felt the gentle waves rock the wooden dinghy, the warm sun feeling pleasant against his open chest. 

He trusted his ship—Navigator, he’d named her—to take him to wherever he was destined to go. Besides, he treasured his naps, not being a morning person in the slightest. 

Mihawk woke up to the sight of Reverse mountain behind him, apparently having slept through the entire ordeal. 

Slightly disappointed that he didn’t go on an, essentially, free rollercoaster—because yes, he still had a slight childishness within him—he settled back into the single wooden plank attached horizontally to his boat, which acted as his seat. He frowned at the slight cracks along the side of it. 

Mihawk looked up, an island appearing in his line of vision, rising up against the continuous blue planes of the ocean. _A tropical island_. 

Bright green palm trees, a white beach, a coral reef, thatched roofs in a conical shape, and wooden structures holding it up. A mountain filled with vibrant greenery surrounding the town, gently sloping down to the epicenter where the forest conjoined alongside it. _Beautiful_. 

Then, he saw the people—in comparison to his dark locks, the people’s colorful heads of blue, red, and yellow popped out brilliantly. It hurt his eyes to look at such a bright picture. 

Mihawk suddenly frowned, noticing the faces of the people around. Then, he examined the ships moored near the island on its docks, one in particular being of larger stature than the others. It also had an infamous jolly roger—that of the Storm pirates. 

He gripped Raitoningu with tightened fists, one hand on the hilt in case there was a sudden attack. His boat drifted until it hit the side of the beach; with a great bit of caution, he held the edge of his dinghy and pulled it until it was touching a palm tree, before tying it there. 

Then, he gave a prayer to Navigator—it was a tradition the people on his island, Westenra, had done in response to many situations—to stay safe. Getting married, setting off into the unknown, before a big battle—it was all preceded with a prayer.

He opened his eyes, noticing a group of pirates coming out of the ship with a large burlap bag with a white-and-gray color scheme to their clothing. They were heading to the main road that would lead into the town, and the people who had once roamed the sides of the beach started heading back into their houses. 

Their movements were frantic, full of fear—it was pirates, of course. Mihawk’s face turned dark, and he unsheathed Raitoningu, ready to battle it out. 

Before a hand yanked him back into the trees.

“What were you thinking?!” A voice hissed at him, badly whispered. Mihawk instinctively swiped upwards, feeling the stranger’s hands let his shirt go as if he’d been sliced. Which he hadn’t—Mihawk hadn’t felt Raitoningu go through any flesh. 

“Don’t touch me,” Mihawk replied coldly, twisting around to see his assailant in the face.

It was a boy, younger than him it would seem, with bright red hair and a round face that (for some reason) conveyed a sense of friendliness. He wore a white shirt, black pants and shoes, and a brown satchel looped around his right shoulders, and a dagger attached to his side. 

“What are you doing?!” The stranger repeated, holding his hands in the universal “I surrender” sign. “You can’t attack them!” 

“Says who?” 

“Morals! They have hostages from our village, if you attack them we risk their lives!” The other boy snapped back at him. Mihawk furrowed his eyebrows in response, body still tense in a motion to attack at any moment. The other boy sighed. 

“Look, I didn’t mean any harm from grabbing you. I just had to warn you—plus, those pirates are super strong. They took out our head chief in only a few minutes,” he explained, eyes expressing his sincerity.

Mihawk lowered his sword slowly, sheathing it back in. 

“Then you need them to be defeated, correct?” 

“Well, yes, but _you’re_ not going to be the one to do that,” the boy replied, serious. When Mihawk didn’t budge from his position, the other boy groaned. “Come on, you’re gonna die!” 

“I won’t die,” Mihawk replied. “Not until I fulfill my dream.” 

The other boy crossed his arms, trying to look as threatening as possible next to Mihawk, who barely noticed. He was younger and shorter than Mihawk, so he didn’t impress him. 

“....But since there’s hostages in question, I will focus my efforts on finding another way to challenge the Storm pirates,” Mihawk continued, glancing at the other boy. One of his eyebrows was raised. 

Then, a slow grin spread through the boy’s face, and he gestured towards the direction of the village.

“Then let’s first go to the village! My name’s Shanks!” 

“Dracule Mihawk.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's what I got from canon: 
> 
> -Shanks is 9 when he joins Roger  
> -Mihawk is 4 years older than Shanks, so he would be 13 when that happens  
> -Shanks was 15 at Roger's execution, and Roger conquered the Grand Line in 3 years. So Shanks was 12 when he began conquering the Grand Line, and 14 when Roger secretly disbanded the crew.  
> -This makes Mihawk 19 at Roger's execution, and 16 when Shanks is 12


	2. Getting ready for what?

_ Does he not care how I even got here? _ Mihawk wondered, thinking about the bo— _ Shanks’s _ — sense of self-preservation. 

“...Are you not going to inquire about my intentions?” Mihawk asked, curious. Shanks pushed another tree branch out of the way, causing it to whip back at Mihawk, who sliced it apart.  _ Annoying undergrowth.  _

“You don’t seem like a bad guy,” Shanks replied, looking back. Then, he promptly tripped over a couple roots, diving straight into a small bush in front of him—though not without taking Mihawk with him.

“ —You!” Mihawk shouted as they both tumbled down. He found himself rolling onto his side, before coming to a stop and standing up. He looked down at the ruffled-up mess besides him in the form of Shanks, who grinned when Mihawk offered him a hand up. 

“Dahaha! Sorry ‘bout that!” Shanks laughed. “Just up ahead is where the town should be, so we should be out of this forest soon.” 

_ Please _ . 

Mihawk sighed, motioning for him to keep moving. Soon, they came out of the dense undergrowth, where they came face-to-face with an empty outdoor theater, a grassy slope curving down into a stone platform. Bits of wooden seats were embedded in the slope, attached to the landscape, and around it, were the wooden buildings he’d seen earlier in Navigator. 

It was the exact opposite of the island Mihawk had been born in: a rain island with perpetually gloomy weather and a penchant for the color gray. He still favored his island, personally, but here wasn’t a bad place to live.

“Oh! You have to try our sake! It’s the best in the world!” Shanks excitedly rambled as they climbed the stairs. “Your eyes are pretty cool by the way, though they’re kinda scary.” 

“You look a bit young to be drinking.” 

“I’m nine!” 

“...” 

“...I only took a sip, nothing else, swear on Vylkonos.” 

As they walked through the wooden structures, Mihawk inspected the villagers again, alert for any sign of the pirates. 

“Vylkonos?”

“The name of the highest mountain peak surrounding us,” Shanks replied eagerly, pointing to the middle peak. “It’s the only one that touches the clouds.” 

“...I see,” Mihawk responded. He reached out with his power (whatever it was—he’d discovered it back in East Blue, though it was useful), attempting to track the positions of the Storm pirates. 

“...We would also have an annual festival around this time this year, but I dunno if it’ll happen since the whole situation…” 

_ There _ . 

There were several alleyways to the sides of both boys, since they were on what seemed to be the main road, so Mihawk suddenly dragged Shanks into one. He placed a hand over Shanks’s mouth. Blissful silence. 

Shanks looked at him curiously, eyes inquiring. 

“Look,” Mihawk curtly replied, indicating with a nod. They were near the center of the town, where from their angle, they could faintly see the enormous palm tree at the very center of a wide square. A group of pirates suddenly passed by where they’d been before, kicking at the civilians walking by in contempt. 

Mihawk let go of Shanks, who kept his hands on his dagger. For the first time since they’d met, his face held a look of absolute fury, his body tense—as if he was preparing to fight. His fingers were clenched tightly around the hilt, his knuckles white with the amount of force he was applying. 

“Don’t be rash,” Mihawk warned. 

Then, a realization struck him—why was he helping this kid anyway? He’d always done everything by himself, and this time shouldn’t be anything different. 

_...It wouldn’t hurt to stick around for a little longer _ , he thought, sighing internally. Sooner or later, the kid was going to get bored of him, so it wouldn’t matter later on either way. 

“It’s—” Shanks started, his teeth clenched. “It’s just...frustrating. They’re extorting us from our money, using our families to do that, and kicking around the people like they’re objects.” 

“Then get the hostages back,” Mihawk bluntly replied. Shanks looked at him in surprise, hand still clenched around his dagger. “You want to get stronger, don’t you?” 

“Of course!” 

“Then train!” Mihawk said, crossing his arms. “Nothing will get done unless you work for it—including this.” He indicated at the pirates collecting money around the square center, holding up a dagger to the necks of those who did not comply. 

Shanks relaxed his hold slowly, inhaling slowly before exhaling. 

“...Let’s go to my house first,” he said, brushing off the dust from his pants. “Then, let’s make a plan and train. Are you in?” 

“..I suppose,” Mihawk responded, closing his eyes for a second.  _ How interesting. _

* * *

  
  


“And here it is!” Shanks exclaimed as he threw open the doors of his house, the wood floor creaking under their weight as they walked in. Shanks took off his shoes, to which Mihawk did the same, though he wasn’t used to it. 

It was one of the smallest houses, from what Mihawk had seen. Still, it felt more quaint rather than cluttered—although there various detritus scattered about, and clothes thrown on couches, it fit in the atmosphere of the home. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Shanks said as he led Mihawk around, showing him the main room (which was the living room and kitchen combined), his room, and the bathroom. Mihawk kept everything on him, though he took a seat on the reed sofa filled with stitched cushions. 

“You do not have anybody else living with you?” Mihawk asked as Shanks busied himself in the kitchen making tea.

“Nah, both of my parents are dead,” Shanks replied casually. “It’s fine though, I never really met them.” Then, he took out two cups and filled them with the tea, handing one over to Mihawk, who accepted it gratefully. 

“Let’s get down to business,” Mihawk stated, reaching into his backpack to take out a mini notebook and pencil. “Tell me anything you know about the pirates.” 

“Alright then,” Shanks began. “The Storm pirates came around three days ago, right after we’d gone through a hurricane. They must’ve been blown to this island from the storm—huh, their names really fit their situation—so we’d, at first, welcomed them.”

Mihawk listened, the scritch-scratch sounds of the pencil echoing in the small space.

“But the captain, ‘Storm-Bringer’ John Galvis, his first mate ‘Five-Clone’ Twig, and the rest of the crew suddenly took a bunch of the people hostage in their ship, demanding a ransom of 50 million, plus our crops this harvest as well,” Shanks continued, setting his tea down on the table. “We can barely amass 10 million, nonetheless 50, and without our harvest, our town will go hungry. So, the pirates have been going around and collecting anything of worth instead, like the jewelry women here would usually have on themselves, and even the town center’s statue of Tukimno.” 

“Storm Bringer’s bounty is 10,000,000 beli, and Five Clone’s is 9,000,000,” Mihawk commented, pulling out two wanted posters. “Other notable ones would be Twin Gun ‘Dav’ and ‘Thin Whisker’ Etsuji. As for the rest, I do not have the wanted posters for them, though the marines should recognize them.” 

“Eh? Are you a bounty hunter?” Shanks asked, tilting his head. Mihawk nodded, sipping his tea.

“That’s pretty cool!” Shanks continued, putting his hands behind his head and settling back onto the sofa. “But I’d rather be a pirate!” 

“...You don’t hate pirates?” Mihawk inquired. 

“Well, certain types. I just want to feel the freedom of the seas, travel the world, go on adventures, you know? I don’t need a territory to look after, I just want to travel around, and help people like the ones here—the type of pirates that plunder, like these guys, I despise.” 

_ I see _ , Mihawk thought, glancing at Shanks from the corner of his eye.  _ A life free of shackles and chains….it sounds nice.  _

Someday, he might do the same—but for now, he had an obligation to fulfill. 

“Anyway, what times do the pirates approximately make their rounds, and what are they seen doing?” Mihawk asked. They had to get back on task. 

“I’ve been observing them for the past two days,” Shanks stated. “They operate in groups of five, with about thirty members in their crew, so six groups. Anytime from noon to five, they will make their usual rounds around the town—there wasn’t any exact, predictable time they would come out. At night, they usually have three guards on the ship’s deck, and all usually stay onboard, although yesterday at around ten a.m., the captain came to town in order to threaten the hostages once more.” 

“I see,” Mihawk replied thoughtfully, placing a hand on his chin. 

“The most important thing is,” Shanks said, leaning forward. “Is that the captain and first mate makes all the decisions. The crewmates themselves are like sheep following a shepherd—without the head, I’m betting they’ll just destroy themselves.” 

Then, he added on, “...but we can’t count on that being an irrevocable truth, just in case.” 

Mihawk closed his eyes, thinking. 

_ A bounty of 10,000,000 beli, and a second of 9,000,000. The highest I’ve fought and won was...5,000,000.  _

It was a sharp disparity from the East Blue bounties, and he frowned. 

_ And what to do about the other crew members….  _

“You said your head chief was taken,” Mihawk stated, turning to Shanks. 

“Yeah, and most of the fighters too,” he replied. “That day, we were repairing the buildings in the main square, so those with the most physical strength were called out to assist with the labor. It was bad luck that they were taken, along with some of the women and children. They didn’t go without a fight though; I reckon there were around ten pirates dead from that.” 

_ Very unfortunate _ , Mihawk thought. So what they had to work with were mainly non-fighting civilians and children.

“You didn’t call the marines?” He asked. Shank’s shook his head, a grim smile on his face.

“We didn’t have many transponder snails here in the first place, and although they searched through our houses, one of our calls went through,” he replied. “But it was intercepted by a horned transponder snail, I’m betting. No one came.” 

Mihawk watched as the sky began a slight tinge of golden-orange, signalling that it was almost sunset. He pushed himself off the sofa, looking back at Shanks, who stared at him back in curiosity. 

“Let’s spar,” Mihawk ordered. 

Shanks cracked his stiff joints, before getting off the sofa and grabbing his discarded dagger. 

“Sure, lemme show you the place I always go to,” he replied. 

* * *

They headed towards the forest west of the village, which steeply sloped upwards into one of the three peaks. Shanks led Mihawk behind the slope, in what seemed like a well-treaded path, though hidden. A flat circled area greeted them, surrounded by dense vegetation, though the ground was paved and only a few spots of weed grew between the cracks. 

A few dummies made of straw sat in the right corner, with rather crude smilies drawn onto their lopsided heads. It seemed that the younger generation used this ground often, seeing the childish drawings in the dirt and on the trees. 

Shanks walked behind one of the larger trees, shuffling around—with what seemed like a safe, Mihawk realized—before coming out with two wooden swords, slightly battered from constant use. 

“Catch!” Shanks yelled, tossing a sword on over, to which Mihawk caught with one hand. 

“Are you not going to use your dagger?” Mihawk asked, one eyebrow raised as he nodded his head at the weapon strapped at Shanks’s side. 

“We’re just gauging each other’s strengths for now, right?” Shanks asked, grinning. “We can move on to actual weaponry after, Mr. bounty hunter.” Mihawk nodded to that, though he kept Raitoningu strapped to his side. Shanks did the same with his dagger, though Mihawk wondered which weapon he was more proficient at—the dagger, or the sword? 

Mihawk made a prayer, to which Shanks looked at him with a confused expression, before getting into a fighting stance. 

“Wait, wait, we gotta do something first!” Shanks exclaimed, walking in front of Mihawk. He held out a fist, waiting. Mihawk looked at it for a second, before placing his own fist against Shank’s—who then opened his palm and placed it against Mihawk’s now-open palm. Then, they let go.

“It’s something we do before every match,” Shanks explained, stepping away. “To give respect to both persons before we start.” 

“...I see,” Mihawk replied, staring at his palm.  _ Interesting _ . 

“On three,” Shanks said, both getting into a fighting stance. “One...two...THREE!” 

Shanks dashed towards Mihawk, who stayed where he was, before blocking a strike at his chest with his sword. Mihawk ducked under the next one, striking upwards with his sword, before Shanks twisted to the right and sliced down. 

They exchanged blows—though Shank’s strikes were graceful and unpredictable with a wild nature, Mihawk’s were strategically placed and confident. They were well matched, and Shanks was rather well-versed in both swordsmanship and martial arts, especially seen when Mihawk kicked him across the ground before rushing towards him, though Shanks quickly jackknifed back up and dealt back a strike just as quickly. 

It was, however, Mihawk’s additional four years on Shanks and his proficiency over his “sixth sense” that ultimately decided the winner. Mihawk dodged another slice from Shanks from above, stabbing his sword upwards onto Shank’s hilt and causing it to fly forcefully out of his grip. 

“Shi—” Shanks yelled as Mihawk kicked him down and placed the sword at his throat. 

“I would have killed you already in a real fight,” Mihawk said, a slight smile on his face. Finally, somebody halfway decent in the sword arts. Shanks looked mesmerized for a second, both of them breathing hard from the spar. 

“You should do that more,” Shanks said breathlessly. Mihawk raised an eyebrow for further explanation, offering his hand up to Shanks, who took it. 

“Smile,” Shanks explained, grinning. “Looks nice on you.” Mihawk scoffed, though his ears burned slightly from embarrassment. 

“Focus on the training.” 

“Training. Yes. Gotcha.” 

Mihawk motioned for Shanks to pick up his sword again, who got up to retrieve it. There were a few scratches and scrapes on the both of them, though nothing was even close to serious. 

“So how do you do that?” Shanks asked, gesturing at Mihawk’s eyes. 

“Do what?” 

“Like...know what I’m about to do,” he replied. “You seem to know my every move, it was so difficult fighting against that, you know.”  _ Oh, that _ . 

“It’s...my sixth sense,” Mihawk replied, observing the glow of the sunset against Shanks’s red hair, making it look like fire. “It’s difficult to explain. It lets me sense people and in battle as well.” 

“Ahh, that’s so cool!” Shanks exclaimed, stars in his eyes. “Were you born with it? Or did you train it? Is there a way I can somehow do that?” 

“I believe it’s innate,” Mihawk said, shaking his head. “Anyway, again.” 

Shanks nodded, taking out his sword and getting into a different stance, this time.

“On three….one, two, THREE!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all have no idea how hard it was to write “let’s get down to business” with a straight face. Also, no, both Mihawk and Shanks don't know a flying fuck about haki besides rumors, but they'll find out soon.


	3. Fighting for what?

The rest of their training session, Mihawk and Shanks taught each other tricks and techniques in swordsmanship. Then, they went on to race each other by running up and down the mountains, before working on core and arm strength training. 

Shanks told Mihawk during their run (in the beginning only—towards the end, both couldn’t even talk with gasping for breath) that the pirates would give them about a week before they would start killing off the hostages. Which meant that they had to do something in about five days, just to make sure—and that meant intensive training, plus rest the day before. 

They swapped ideas about what to do during their exercises—”first get rid of the captain?” “We have hostages.” “Then free the hostages first, somehow” —before agreeing together on a plan. 

If the captain and his elite group come out to threaten the townspeople again in the morning, Shanks, Mihawk, a woman called Rina that Shanks admired—who was a fighter, though she wasn’t in the town at the time of the pirate attack—and two others would take them down. 

_“So you want me to help you brats fight?” Rina asked, tossing a knife up and down in the air. Scarred, muscled arms tanned with exposure to the sun flexed beneath a black tank top, contrasting with beige knee-length shorts. A bandana was tied behind her bangs, exposing only the front and back of her brown hair._

_Shanks and Mihawk nodded at the same time. In response, she looked them over impassively, eyes roving over Mihawk’s clothes more._

_“Che, first we gotta get you some new clothes, pal. Then let’s see how you brats will hold up,” she replied, grinning wide as she pointed at the various holes and patches on Mihawk’s shirt._

_Mihawk and Shanks exchanged looks._

Another group—which would consist of the other townspeople, mainly women, would also arm themselves. A distraction would go off in the form of an explosion and pretend marine horn from the other side of the island, splitting the pirate force aboard the ship. The group would then, with another girl named Tam who had a devil fruit called the Kusa-Kusa no Mi (Grass Grass fruit), immobilize any pirate attempting to harm the hostage and free them. 

That was just Plan A.

_“How am I going to memorize all this?” Shanks groaned, knocking his head on the table._

_“It’s not that complicated of a plan,” Mihawk replied, flipping through another page in the newspaper. “Split up, distract, free, then fight. Plus bounties.”_

Plan B was relatively the same, designed around the afternoon round instead. Over the next few days, they’d discretely gone around the village, knocking on doors and explaining the plan to anybody who was willing to help. 

_An old fisherman opened the door, a sun hat atop his head. Shanks, being the most charismatic, was the one to explain what their purpose was to the old man._

_“Tch. It’s a futile plan,” a gruff voice replied, ancient eyes looking over their figures. “You kids, hoping to defeat fully-grown pirates with devil fruits?”_

_Shanks clenched his fists, though Mihawk put one hand on his arm as a warning. The old man had a point._

_“It’s best to call it off now, before any more deaths happen,” the fisherman continued. “The pirates will get bored eventually.”_

_He began to shut his door, before Mihawk calmly replied, “indecisiveness breeds inaction. We’ve decided already, and we’ll follow through with it.” Shanks nodded, agreeing with his words._

_The door shut firmly in their faces._

_Shanks sighed, putting both hands behind his head. They began walking to the next house, and Mihawk watched out for any signs of pirates with his sixth sense._

_“He’s always like that, old man Fuku,” Shanks recalled. “I don’t think he’ll come, but—I know this sounds mean—otherwise, I think he’ll get killed in the fighting.”_

_Mihawk knocked on the neighbor’s door._

_“...We’ll see.”_

The townspeople went about their daily lives as usual—or, as usual as it could be when under constant threat. Although in secret, a few of the adults were training some of the others, plus Tam, to fight with weapons in preparation for the battle ahead. it was time to take back their island. 

* * *

  
  


It was the third day. Shanks and Mihawk were back at the training area, waiting for Rina to show up, as the noon sun blazed ahead. 

Mihawk was melting slowly, sweat accumulating on his face in the face of such intense heat (well, for him). He walked over under a tree and sat atop a rounded rock, finding instant gratification in the shade. 

“Good afternoon brats!” Rina called out as she walked in through the path, swinging her right arm with the other holding that side’s shoulder. “Lesson number one is strength!” Suddenly, a black film rushed from around her hand to her forearm, a tinge of maroon over it. 

_It’s morning,_ Mihawk thought. He observed the color of her arm, curious about it. 

“What’s that?!” Shanks squawked, unsheathing his dagger as Mihawk did the same with Raitoningu. She grinned, and in a blink, was in front of Shanks. 

Shanks threw up his dagger just in time for her fist to connect with the sharp side of the blade. He blinked in surprise when not only did it fail to cut into her skin, but was also being overpowered by simple strength alone. 

_“Heheh, this is haki kid!” A pirate revealed to Mihawk, who was thrown back from the blow. He got back up quickly, his sword immediately out._

Mihawk blinked back the memory—so this was haki. _It appears to strengthen anything it is coated on_. 

“Fight back!” Rina yelled, throwing Shanks to the side yet again, who protested with, “I’m trying!” 

“Try harder then!” 

Then, she appeared in front of Mihawk, who dodged and sliced upwards onto her arm. She caught the blade, grin becoming wider, before ripping it out of his hands. Mihawk’s eyes widened slightly, countering with a forceful punch thrown at her solar plexus, where the haki didn’t reach. 

Too late. She kicked him away, and he flew into a tree, feeling the impact knock the breath out his lungs. He had about a second to breathe, before staggering to the side when she decimated the tree where he’d just been in front of. 

Mihawk sensed her directly to his right, so he jumped to the side before attempting to throw another punch. It barely grazed her shoulder, and she punched him away again. 

“Oh my Tuk—” Shanks screamed when she reappeared in front of him. He slashed with his dagger, quickly scrambling back to gain distance after. She blocked it with her arms, responding in return with an onslaught of her own hits. 

By the end of the session, both Mihawk and Shanks were bruised and sore, as Rina laughed maniacally in the background. _What a rough woman._

“You’re good for a couple of brats!” She praised, clapping them both on the shoulders. Shanks outwardly winced; Mihawk, internally. 

“What’s that black thing called?” Shanks asked, leaning against the boulder Mihawk was sitting on. 

“Haki,” Rina replied nonchalantly, letting the black color fade away from her arms. “I assume you don’t already know, so I’ll explain. Haki is a mysterious power within every living being, and although everybody can learn to use it, most do not notice it nor awaken it. Thus, it’s uncommon to see it among smaller pirates, but if you see the ones on the Grand Line...boy, most of them are definitely stronger than me.” 

She peered at Mihawk, continuing. 

“There are three different types—observation, armament, and conqueror’s. The last one is incredibly rare and is the only type that you must be born with, although the other two can be awakened and taught by anybody, such as you.” She pointed at Mihawk. 

“Your sixth sense!” Shanks exclaimed, tapping Mihawk’s dangling feet. 

“Your sixth sense?!” Rina shouted, roaring in laughter. “I suppose you can call it that! That’s observation haki, kid!” 

Mihawk nodded in reply. _So that’s what it’s called._

“This,” she continued, holding up her arm. “Is called armament haki. Unfortunately, two days is not enough time to properly train this type of haki, but hopefully...by today, you kids could awaken it.” 

“...And how would we awaken it?” Shanks asked nervously. 

“Good question,” Rina said, a twinkle in her eyes. “Heheh...let’s say it’s time to find your fighting spirit.” 

* * *

It was the fourth day. Tam sat next to Shanks and Mihawk under a tree, angrily ranting about her family heirloom being stolen by the Storm pirates. She was the same age as Shanks, though shorter and even more energetic, somehow. 

“...and this fruit is so hard to control,” she complained, blowing a strand of blue hair out of her face. “I can trip people, but immobilizing them would be much more useful.” 

“True,” Shanks admitted, ruffling his red hair with one hand. Mihawk closed his eyes against the tree, feeling exhaustion weigh down like a sack of bricks on his bones. Constant training and talking helped with his insomnia, though no matter what, he was still going to be tired. 

They sat in relative silence after, feeling the breeze blow through the trees, creating a wave along the grass strands and in the leaves. The day was clear, with sparse cirrus clouds abound, and the temperature was relatively cool. 

A good day to take a nap. 

Mihawk jolted awake to the feeling of grass crawling up his leg. He opened one eye to look at Tam, grunting his disapproval. 

She giggled, replying with “sorry to wake you! I wanted to practice on actual people.” 

Mihawk moved to peel the grass strands off his leg, before he realized that Shanks had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He sighed, moving back into his original position. Tam looked amusedly at Shanks, a smile hidden behind her hands. 

“I’ve never seen Shanks trust someone so quickly,” she commented, brushing a leaf off Shanks’s shoulder. “He’s so lonely here, it’s nice to see him accept somebody else as a friend.” 

“...Aren’t you his friend?” Mihawk inquired, looking down at the sleeping figure beside him. It was hard to believe that Shanks didn’t have many trusted friends in the town, with his personality. 

“Of course!” She responded. “But it’s just been me for a while, you know, since his last few friends have been pretty toxic. He’s still well-liked in our town, but they’re mainly acquaintances.” 

“I see,” Mihawk replied, shifting his weight slightly. He felt like sleeping again, but a thought in the back of his mind whispered that he couldn’t waste time napping, when they had only a day left. 

Mihawk looked up at the clouds, feeling another breeze ruffle his hair. He parted his mouth open.

“I....do not understand why he would befriend me.” He genuinely felt mystified by the redhead—most would’ve been put off by his callous personality right off the bat. 

“Eheheh, Shanks has always been that kind of guy!” Tam giggled, her eyes fond. “If he likes you, for any odd reason, then you’re stuck with him! So don’t worry about it.” 

“...Yeah,” Mihawk replied. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Where are y’all?!” A loud voice suddenly interrupted, causing Mihawk to slap Shanks awake with lightning speed, Tam to shoot straight up at attention, and Shanks to squawk indignantly. 

* * *

One day left. 

“We don’t know the captain’s power, but I reckon it has something to do with storms because of his moniker,” Shanks briefed as about fifty people sat in the room, mainly women and older men. “‘Five-Clone’ Twig is able to create five copies of himself, but I’m not sure if the clones are perfect copies or not.”

“They are weaker than the original,” a woman added on towards the back of the room. “From what I saw.” Shanks nodded to her in reply, acknowledging her statement. 

“‘Twin Gun’ is very proficient with pistols,” another woman added on. “He shot my shoulder from as much as fifty meters away, so watch out for that.” A couple people looked at each other in worry.

A few eyes looked at Mihawk suspiciously, since he was new, but as Shanks was friendly with Mihawk, they did not bother him. 

“...Lastly, ‘Thin Whisker’ carries a spiked mace on him, though he doesn’t seem to carry a devil fruit,” Shanks continued. “Are there other notable exceptions?” 

When no one spoke up, Shanks nodded to Mihawk to start speaking. Mihawk reciprocated, standing up, before opening his mouth. 

“We will be split into two groups…” 

* * *

  
  


“Hey, are you awake?” Shanks whispered to Mihawk from the bed in his room. Mihawk was on the sofa, but since the rooms were so close together, he could hear every word from Shanks’s mouth.

“Yes,” Mihawk replied. He was always awake at night, until the clock struck two or three a.m. He was sharpening Raitoningu in preparation for the battle that was bound to happen the next day. A candle glowed with an orange light besides him, allowing him to focus on the whetstone under his sword. 

“This sucks, I can’t sleep,” Shanks complained. “You have insomnia right? How do you fall asleep?” 

Mihawk paused in his movements, staring at Shanks’s face, which was looking back at him from an open door. 

“I usually get tired by two a.m.,” he replied, inspecting Raitoningu. “Drinking a cup of milk also helps.” 

“Milk?” 

Mihawk stared even more. “...From cows. Do you not have cows here?” 

“Nah, dunno what those are,” Shanks answered, lips pursed. “I think I’ll just make myself tea instead.” 

Mihawk nodded in acknowledgement, going back to sharpening his sword. 

“You ever have a feeling of trepidation, like something big’s gonna happen tomorrow?” Shanks asked after a few minutes of soft clinking and shuffling. “I know that the fight’s going to be a big event...but the feeling’s about something else, I’m sure of it.” 

Mihawk hummed in reply, taking out a bit of sandpaper from his backpack. 

“My heart’s beating so fast,” Shanks continued, laughing a bit nervously. “I don’t know why, but I don’t think it’s from nervousness.” Then, he reconsidered. “Well, maybe a little bit.”

“No, I can sense it too,” Mihawk commented, looking at the outline of a half-crescent moon through the curtains. “Perhaps a new curtain will rise on the world’s stage.” 

* * *

  
  


It was already eleven a.m. The captain was not coming out. 

The townspeople milled around in a seemingly normal fashion, however, what couldn’t be seen on the surface were the daggers strapped to waists, the swords covered by cloaks, or the few pistols underneath dresses. The children had helped them prepare batches of first aid balm the day before, which were distributed amongst the fighting force, since it would almost instantaneously stem bleeding. 

Mihawk and Shanks were standing by each other near the main square’s massive palm tree, waiting. A man with the tone dial of a marine ship’s horns and captain’s voice, plus a breath dial in his bag, sat nearby to wait for the signal. 

The Storm captain still wasn’t coming out. Shanks scrunched his eyebrows, looking at Mihawk, who nodded back. Then, Shanks threw his hand up, fingers crossed in a signal for Plan B to start, rather than A. The man with the dials nodded, grasping the breath dial and activated it, causing a violent gust of wind to sweep out and propel the man forwards, towards the other side of the island. 

Shanks, Mihawk, Rina, and two other women walked into the west side of the forest, stopping just before they entered the beach. The other group along with Tam walked to the east side. 

Mihawk felt himself shiver, and whether it be from nervousness or anticipation or any other factor, he didn’t know. This was it. 

A massive explosion suddenly rocked the waves, its blast coming from the back end of the island. The squawks of seagulls suddenly rising beyond the trees filled the air, the beating of wings heavy against the plumes of smoke rising in the air. 

“HEY! What’s goin’ on?!” A pirate called as multitudes of the crew came above deck, looking around. 

“There! A massive explosion!” Another cried out, pointing towards the direction of the smoke. The captain emerged from the door, looking towards the same direction. He was a burly man of large stature, a scar across his cheeks and a blue buccaneer hat, dark blue-grey cloak, and white shirt. 

Suddenly, the marine’s horn sounded, a recording of a marine captain repeating orders to stand down. 

“Storm-Bringer” Galvis smiled wide, clasping his cutlass and settling it against his shoulder. Mihawk couldn’t hear what he was saying, but “Twin Gun” Dav jumped down along the shore with his captain, along with eight other pirates. 

“Finally, a worthy fight!” Galvis exclaimed, grinning. “Some puny marine captain’s decided to play hero, let’s teach them otherwise boys!” 

“Mihawk, look!” Shanks whispered, nudging him with his elbow and pointed at the other pirates aboard the ship. They were running around, tugging at the ropes….with a shiver, Mihawk realized that they were _setting for sail_. 

_Not now,_ Mihawk thought, watching Galvis and his goons walk slowly across the beach. If they came out now, they would realize the explosion was a distraction—they were still too close. _Why are they setting sail? Are they leaving behind their captain?_

The sails were raised, and a pirate set himself down behind the ship’s helm. Shanks was panicking silently to his right, whispering, “oh no, oh no, the hostages!” 

The pirates were halfway across the beach, leisurely taking their time to get to their destination. Mihawk tensed, before Shanks signalled to the other group that they had to move _now_. There was no helping it, they were going to have to improvise. 

Mihawk dashed out of the undergrowth suddenly, Rina and Shanks splitting to the sides to take on Galvis’s group. 

Twin air explosions suddenly appeared to the sides of Galvis and his group, the sand spraying everywhere. The pirates stumbled, the entire group suddenly caught on a sticky gum that only grew in the palm trees on the island. 

Rina gave a thumbs up, and the east group began releasing boulders to mow the pirates down, along with arrows and a couple logs. Mihawk noticed that Galvis looked unperturbed, bringing out both his arms to the side as the day quickly became cloudy. 

Dav slid his twin pistols out of his pocket, shooting down arrows as the boulders rolled down the beach slope quickly. Galvis pointed down, and a loud crack in the air signalled the start of a heavy downpour. 

A violent gale swept most of the logs aside, and the rain washed away the paste, allowing the pirates to free themselves. 

“I didn’t think he’d be that powerful!” Shanks yelled over the wind, trying to keep his eyes open against the battering of rain. Mihawk raced up the ship, unsheathing Raitoningu, yellow eyes glowing against the dark backdrop, before jumping the railing. “Thin Whisker” Etsuji attempted to intercept Mihawk by trying to kick him off the ship, though a woman blocked his kick, yelling “keep going!” 

Tam climbed over soon after, a silver dagger in her hands, as the east group began boarding. 

“Sweeping Falcon Cut!” Mihawk yelled, gripping Raitoningu and slashing all around the sail’s base with lightning speed, causing the pillars to crash against the deck. Pirates and allies alike ducked to avoid the wood pieces and sail parts. 

He suddenly ducked beneath a kick from “Five-Clone” Twig, who held a sword in both hands. Mihawk and Twig clashed, the blades ringing amidst the clashing sounds of the battles around them. 

“We still have the hostages!” One of the pirates yelled over the rain and wind, grinning triumphantly. Mihawk and Twig came to a standstill, with neither moving their sword as they glared at one another. He suddenly reached out with his observation haki, looking for the presence of the hostages—and...there. 

Just below the deck, to the back. Three pirates were guarding the cell, though they were immobile. 

“KEEP GOING! Tam’s got them!” Mihawk yelled, reinvigorating the spirits of his allies around him. Soon, the pirates began losing momentum as Tam and two others went below deck in order to free the hostages.

Mihawk reminded himself to thank Rina later for both his and Tam’s observation haki training. 

“Half Count Slash!” Mihawk sliced with terrifying accuracy at Twig’s chest, creating a bloody “X” in the center. He felt a bit of the warm blood fall on his face, though the rain quickly washed it off. 

Twig looked surprised as he fell down and— 

—turned to dirt. 

_A copy,_ Mihawk thought. One of the east group’s men fell down, his dagger clattering out of his hands as another Twig copy hovered over his figure. He grasped his swords, ready to conduct the finishing blows, before Mihawk ran in front of the man, catching the downward slices. 

Mihawk’s knees almost buckled from the amount of strength Twig’s copy was applying, and he had to grit his teeth and apply a bit of armament haki on his arms to keep up. 

_He’s the real one._

“Phoenix Dance,” Mihawk said, taking on the offensive as he sliced up and down and from the sides, attempting to overpower Twig, who countered each of his blows. 

“A single brat…!” Twig gritted out, anger bleeding into his eyes as he began pushing back. Mihawk attempted to add more haki onto his arm, but nothing came—there was only so much he could learn about haki in two days. 

Mihawk felt himself being pushed back, his trembling arms attempting to get a tighter grip on Raitoningu. He felt himself being pressed against the railing, before he ducked underneath Twig’s legs, throwing a slash at Twig’s back. 

It only grazed him as he dodged the move, and he retaliated with a kick that splintered the wood where Mihawk once was. Mihawk dashed forwards once more, unrelenting with his slices until Twig had sliced upwards a little too high—too used to fighting with adults—so Mihawk took advantage of the opening. 

He went down, one hand attempting to stop the bleeding at his chest, but it was too deep. One sword had slipped out of his hand, and with the other, he threw it towards Mihawk in one last-ditch attempt. It pierced the broken pillar behind Mihawk, who dodged it by tilting his head. 

Mihawk was breathing hard, the cuts he had gotten from Twig stinging with pain as the rain washed away his blood. He’d killed a man for the first time. 

He pushed that to the back of his mind, running below deck amidst the commotion, dodging flailing limbs and swords. The thumping of his heart was all he could hear as he descended the staircase—Tam and the other two were in trouble. 

He focused on their flickering presence, his concentration increasing until he felt the traces of despair emanating from one of the figures next to Tam. Mihawk rushed through an open door, slamming Raitoningu into the back of one of the pirates. 

Then, he could only watch in slow motion as one of the pirates rushed towards Tam, sword slashing down onto her small body. There was a cry of pain as blood splattered across the wall.

Mihawk saw red. 

* * *

  
  


Shanks punched another pirate in the face, knocking him unconscious. He ran towards his fallen dagger, grabbing it quickly before standing up to see another pirate rush towards him. He threw up his dagger, exchanging blows with the pirate, but he could feel his energy sapping away with each strike. 

_Rina….!_ Shanks thought, taking a quick peek at her battle with Glavis. She was visibly struggling, Glavis’s wind attacks slamming against her repeatedly as blood poured down a deep wound on her shoulder. _Oh no._

“Your opponent is me!” The pirate he was against yelled, slashing down with his axe. Shanks dodged, retaliating with another jab at the man’s chest—it hit the ribs instead. He pulled it out quickly, kicking the man back against a tree with a leg infused with armament haki that quickly faded away. 

Suddenly, a shrill scream rang out, and Shanks snapped his head towards the sound so quickly he felt his neck crack. 

Rina’s twin daggers were a few feet behind her, as Galvis slowly advanced on her with a grin on his face.

“Why’re you so afraid now?” He sneered, grabbing her by the throat. “So confident before—now look at you.” 

Rina kicked her legs, violently scratching at the man’s hands, yet he didn’t let go. Shanks ran towards them, dagger raised with the intent to _murder_ the man. Galvis noticed him running, though he only gave a smirk and brought his arm back.

Only to throw Rina hard into the west-side forest, the force of it causing her body to slam through several trees as she disappeared from sight. 

“RINA!!” Shanks screamed, stabbing the dagger upwards to get Galvis in, at the very least, the lower part of his chest. Shanks’s head only reached the man’s upper hip, because of his massive size. 

Galvis called down lightning next to Shanks, who dodged it barely with a dash to the right. Then, he grinned at Shanks as he swiped down with his cutlass. 

* * *

Mihawk snapped back to his senses when the smell of blood filled the air, his observation haki indicating that there was nobody but allies left. One of the women wiped the blood from Tam’s chest quickly, before smearing almost all of her share of the first aid balm. 

The other woman was standing in front of her, fear in her irises as she met Mihawk’s eyes. He blinked slowly, before nodding at her.

“Sorry you had to witness that,” he replied, indicating around him. Then, he walked towards Tam, the other woman bristling as he came closer. 

“Relax,” he said as he walked straight past her. She didn’t stop him. 

Tam’s face was pale with sweat as her chest went up and down in a staccato rhythm. Her clothes were soaked in blood, and her hands clutched at her pants as the woman wiped more balm onto her wounds. 

“Hey! Free us!” One of the hostages called out. Mihawk didn’t turn around, asking the woman, “will she live?” 

The woman hesitated, before shaking her head. 

“I don’t know,” she replied. “But I’ll do my best. They need you.” She indicated at the hostages, then above. Mihawk nodded in acknowledgement, slicing the steel bars of the cage. The twenty men and women stumbled out slowly, before an older man with gray hair came out, a simple silver headdress conveying that he was the head chief. 

“Thank you young’un,” he said, walking on steady legs that displayed his strength. “Now, let’s give ‘em hell!” The other men nodded, picking up some of the weapons that had fallen during the fight.   
  
Mihawk raced out of the ship, feeling the rain come down once more upon his body as he looked around at the scene quickly. All of the pirates were subdued on the deck, as the west group secured them with rope. 

On the beach, however, Mihawk’s eyes widened when he saw Rina thrown into the trees, the impact knocking down several trees. Around them, pirates and the townspeople alike were downed, though there were around four to five stragglers still fighting. Shanks was running to Galvis, his fury apparent even from the ship. 

Mihawk dashed off the ship as quick as he could, trying to propel himself with haki (to no avail), Raitoningu clenched tight in his fingers. He sensed movement from the side, jerking his head quickly— 

—a white hot flash of pain erupted from his side, and he crashed into the beach. It felt as if a thousand needles, heated with flames, was stabbing into his wound repeatedly as he grabbed his right side. 

There was blood on his hand—too much. It was making him light-headed from the speed he was losing it, but he gritted his teeth.

As he reached for the first aid balm, he saw from the figure of his eyes, “Twin Gun” —though it didn’t seem as if he had both pistols anymore—Dav aiming a gun again towards Mihawk. He froze instinctively.

_I didn’t come this far, just to die here!_

Mihawk clenched down on his teeth, planting both hands on the gritty sand and willing himself to get on his knees as well. He saw Dav slowly start pulling on the trigger, before a sharp _BANG_ rang out. 

“OLD MAN FUKU!” Shanks screamed before Mihawk could register what had happened. His eyes focused on a figure in front of him, crimson blood rushing out of his chest onto the sand. 

_“Tch. It’s a futile plan,” a gruff voice replied, ancient eyes looking over their figures. “You kids, hoping to defeat fully-grown pirates with devil fruits?”_

“Looks like it wasn’t such a bad plan after all,” Fuku chuckled, blood starting to dribble out from his lips. He closed his eyes slowly, smiling. 

“I can tell you kids are going to grow up to be something.” 

Then, he collapsed. 

“Where’d this old man come from, anyway?” Dav asked, before cocking his pistol once again. “Meh, one more dead guy doesn’t matter.” 

Out of the corner of Mihawk’s eyes, he saw Shanks thrown to the side by Galvis, hot tears spilling from his eyes as he looked around the beach with cuts and scratches littering his entire body. 

“NO— _STOP!_ ” He screamed. A sudden wave of powerful aura flooded the entire area, causing most of the pirates, townspeople, and even the fighters on the ship to collapse, unconscious. Mihawk forced himself awake, black spots appearing in his vision. 

_What was that?_

No matter. Mihawk grabbed Raitoningu from where he’d accidentally dropped her, dashing towards Dav. The man quickly blinked back into focus, aiming his pistol at his head once more, although Mihawk ducked out of the way. The bullet barely grazed his face. 

He sliced upwards, separating the barrel of the gun from the rest of it, jabbing once more into Dav’s chest. 

“This,” Mihawk said, enunciating his words in between stabs, “...is for the old man.” 

* * *

Shanks could only blurrily see the beach through his tears, after his outburst, although Galvis had paused in front of him for a split second. 

“Conqueror’s haki, eh?” He commented, the grin sliding off his face. “Looks like I’ll have to get rid of you before you become a nuisance.” He gripped his cutlass with both hands, slashing downwards with as much force as possible. 

Shanks closed his eyes. 

_I’m sorry, Rina, Fuku, Mihawk, Tam….Looks like I’m not coming out alive._

He waited. When nothing happened, he cracked open one eye again. 

A man in a dark red captain’s coat had grabbed Galvis’s wrist, the most prominent feature of his face being a curved, black mustache. He wore a yellow sash around his waist and gray trousers, although he had no shirt on. 

“It’s not everyday you get mistaken for a marine ship!” He cheerily called out to a blonde man with a scar on his right eye walking down the main road, wearing glasses, a purple long coat, and green trousers. 

“I still don’t understand how they didn’t notice the jolly roger,” the man replied exasperatedly. “Our ship’s not even white and blue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah it's Roger and Rayleigh at the end


	4. Joining for what?

_This boy has conqueror’s haki,_ Roger thought as he peered into the cautious eyes of the redhead. He let go of the other captain’s wrist, bending down to look at the sitting boy face-to-face.

_There_ . In his eyes, a bottomless sense of kindness and perseverance. This boy had an immense potential to become something _big_. 

“You interested in joining a pirate crew?” Roger suddenly asked, grinning. The boy looked mystified for a split second, before he realized what Roger was proposing. 

“HEY! Don’t ignore me!” The unknown captain yelled, slashing downwards with his cutlass. 

“Shut up,” Rayleigh responded, slamming one leg into the pirate’s side and sending him flying into the ocean. The boy gazed in awe at the strength Rayleigh displayed, quickly scrambling up. 

"Uhh, sorry sir!" The boy yelped, glancing around at the situation. "I can't answer the question before everybody's safe!" 

He gave one last apology, dashing off to a slightly taller, raven-haired boy cleaning his sword off with his ragged shirt. The both of them took an inventory of one another, before the redhead ran off towards the west-side forest.

Rogers and Rayleigh watched them for a short moment, witnessing the raven-haired boy clutch his side and begin checking the bodies around the scene after a few minutes. 

Then, Rogers got up from his crouch, looking at his first-mate. 

"Well, let's restock at the town then!" 

Rayleigh looked around at the debris and bodies scattered around, eyes observant. The rain was letting up now, along with the gusts of wind. It was still just as cloudy, but without the stormy elements. 

“Sure looks like hell was brought upon here,” he muttered. “Let’s go then, captain.” 

* * *

"Mihawk! Are you okay?" Shanks asked, running over to said person's side. Mihawk was looking a little worse for wear; cuts and bruises littered his body, but the worst wound was located on his side, where blood was profusely pouring out.

Mihawk looked over him as well, yellow eyes checking extensively for any serious wounds or injuries.

"Take care of yourself first," Shanks said, taking out his first aid balm and opening the cap with a _click_. Ever since the strange pirate had talked to him, Shanks's heart had been beating quicker and quicker. 

_That man looks familiar,_ Shanks thought, moving to apply the balm on the wound. Mihawk grabbed it suddenly, wincing slightly at the sudden movement. 

“I can apply it,” he said, looking into Shanks’s eyes. Shanks hesitated for a second, before sighing. 

“Alright, but you better not bleed to death!” He stated, glaring at Mihawk as a threat. “I’ll check up on Rina.” 

_Please be alive_ , he prayed, running across the beach and into the woods. The broken branches and leaves whipped at his face and open arms and legs, yet he couldn’t feel the slightest pain from them. Twice, he almost slipped on a mud puddle in his path, though he managed to keep his balance. 

His heart was pounding faster and faster now, the heartbeats coming erratically. He placed one hand over his chest, willing it to calm down, which worked only just the slightest.

It wasn’t from the running, nor from the deep, aching exhaustion that weighed down on his muscles from the long day. No, it was an indication to something else—an opportunity. 

Soon enough, he saw Rina’s body amongst a hole filled with cracked tree limbs, broken trunks, and torn leaves. He quickly scrambled down, checking over her and grabbed her wrist to take a pulse. 

_Are legs supposed to bend that way?_ Shanks thought, almost puking from the grievous state of her body. Blood was still pouring down her head and shoulder, and more than one limb was twisted the wrong way. 

He almost cried with happiness when he found a pulse—faint, but still there. He brushed off the excess leaves and twigs from her body, before attempting to haul her onto his back. He failed two times, because of his small size, but finally, he managed to get most of her unconscious body on top of him. 

He made sure to keep her feet above the ground, in case it might destroy her legs even more than it already was. 

Then, Shanks started walking, thoughts going back to the weird pirates from before. 

* * *

Mihawk walked around the beach after temporarily stemming the blood on his gunshot wound, checking the pulses on every body—both the pirates and the townspeople. Half of the fighters from the town were tying up the pirates that were alive, while the other half were checking around the island to make sure none of them escaped or hid away. 

The rest of the townspeople began to pick up the dead bodies and laid them to the side of the beach, where it intersected with the edges of the forest. Most of them were pirates, although some of them were still townspeople, like old man Fuku. 

_Gold Roger,_ Mihawk thought, remembering the other pirate captain’s bounty. _And Silvers Rayleigh_. It was extremely surprising to meet such powerful individuals on a small island within the West Blue, but it seemed that anything was possible. 

He did not have their bounties in his backpack, as he didn’t think he’d ever need it—he wasn’t foolish enough to take on bounties higher than 10,000,000 bellies at the moment. 

Mihawk decided to check on Shanks and Rina, his feet taking him to the west forest, where a massive trail was made from Galvis’s throw. He felt sharp twinges of pain from his side with each step he took, black spots hovering once more in his vision, though he ignored it. 

He shouldn’t be this weak. Didn’t even notice the bullet rocketing towards him. Could barely fight back against Twig, even with his now-awakened haki. 

He was _weak_. 

Mihawk gritted his teeth, knuckles white from his hold on Raitoningu. 

Never again would he allow others to sacrifice their lives for him—never again would he allow Raitoningu to exit his hands on the battlefield, as long as he was alive. _Never_. 

“Mihawk!” Shanks voice entered his ear, startling him from his spiraling thoughts. Mihawk looked in front of him to see Shanks’s small body enveloped by Rina’s larger one, who was noticeably unconscious and beaten up. 

“Put one of her arms around my shoulder,” Mihawk said, noticing the trembling of Shanks’s legs as he took one slow step at a time. Shanks hesitated. 

“Are you sure? You’re wounded!” 

“So are you!” Mihawk snapped back, shutting his mouth just as quickly when he realized that he let go of his emotions. 

He steeled his face into a confident expression, ignoring his body’s protests. Examining Shanks’s body even further, he noticed the dilated pupils in his eyes, the shifting of weight onto one leg, and the bloody cuts pouring into his clothes, staining them darker. 

“...Stop arguing, just give me an arm or I’ll do it myself,” Mihawk threatened, moving towards the both of them. Shanks stared at him for a second, before giving a tired smile and shifting Rina so that both her arms looped behind both their necks. 

They started walking, one slow step at a time. 

In the still air, small _plinks_ of water dripping from leaves could be heard, dropping into muddied puddles. Broken branches crunched under their feet, and a soft bird’s call could be heard far in the distance. 

Still, it was the quietest the island was since Mihawk had first arrived. And even though Mihawk was shivering from the cold, even though he was utterly exhausted and hungry and his wounds screamed with bitter pain—he was, somehow, at peace. He had a few unspoken thoughts in his mind—his first kill, his weakness, his emotions—but it could be handled at a later moment. 

Mihawk glanced over at Shanks, seeing a thoughtful expression on his face, punctured at various intervals by a wince or two. 

“What’s got you spaced out like that?” Mihawk asked, shifting his grip on Rina’s arm. Shanks drew his brows, looking at him. 

“Mm...You know that red coat dude?”

“Yes,” Mihawk answered. “His name’s Gold Roger.” 

“EH?! Wait, you actually _know him_ know him?!” Shanks exclaimed, casting a shocked glance at Mihawk. 

“I’m surprised you don’t.” 

Shanks pursed his lips, looking as if he was thinking about something. Then, he hummed in contemplation, making a weird expression—as if he was eating a sour lemon.

“AH! I remember!” He blurted out. “I’ve seen their bounty posters before, from old man Fuku! He used to have tons of them before he retired as a fisherman!” 

“I believe they’re currently one of the more well-known pirate crews,” Mihawk added on. “Not as notable as the biggest crews at the present, but still known for their skirmishes with the marines.” 

Shanks’s eyebrows shot straight up, moving some of his wet hair away from being plastered on his face. 

“Huh, didn’t know that,” he replied. “We don’t get much news from the outside, since we’re such a small island.” 

_I can tell_ , Mihawk thought. 

“Anyway,” Shanks started. “I was going to ask if you would come with me to potentially join a pirate crew?” 

Mihawk stared at him. 

“Gold Roger’s.” 

“Yeah, him!” Shanks continued. “He asked me out of the blue right before Galvis tried to cut me down. I’m kinda hesitant on why he would choose me, but he seems like a nice guy.” 

“You’re just going to go with a random pirate whose first words to you were an invitation to join his crew.” 

“Well, when you put it that way...But I just have a feeling that this is an opportunity! That’s why I want you to come with me, and if he doesn’t accept that, then I’m not joining!” 

...Going along with Shanks to join a pirate crew? A notable one at that? 

Mihawk already knew his answer. 

“...I’m sorry,” he responded sincerely, looking Shanks in the eye. “But I can’t accept your offer.” 

Shanks looked surprised for a second, then crestfallen. “Why?” 

“I have other obligations and dreams I must fulfill,” Mihawk said, looking at the clearing sky. “That being binded to a crew would only hinder. Besides, I work better on my own.” 

Shanks looked a bit hurt for some reason, though Mihawk didn’t know if it was from his decline or his last statement. 

“You don’t always have to work alone, you know,” he whispered after a moment, looking at the muddy floor. “Is it necessary to achieve your dreams without anybody? Or is it a preference?” 

Mihawk paused, taken back. 

“...The point is, I can’t,” he replied, free hand clenched at his side. “I won’t change my mind, so don’t ask again.” 

They walked a few steps in silence, seeing the beach become increasingly closer through the foliage. Then, Shanks opened his mouth again. 

“Your obligation...since you did so much for my island, let me help you with it.” 

For a second, Mihawk actually considered his offer, but he decided against it in the end. 

“It’s fine. I did that for myself, not for the people, there’s no need to repay me back.” 

Then, Mihawk gave a slight nod to Shanks. 

“Good luck with your new crew.” 

* * *

Once Mihawk and Shanks walked out with Rina across both their shoulders, they were greeted with the sight of all the villagers standing on the beach, celebrating. A few were crying, most likely from losing a loved one, though the others were comforting them—it seemed there were far fewer casualties than Mihawk had originally thought. 

When they noticed the two emerging, they started converging to crowd around them, the reds and blues and yellows hurting Mihawk’s eyes after seeing only dark green vegetation for the last few minutes. To his right, Shanks looked overwhelmed. 

“Here comes the main players!” 

“So these were the brats behind everything? Impressive!” 

“Hey, give them space! They’re still injured!” 

The last one, the same woman who had applied first aid to Tam, appeared in front of them in order to push back the townspeople. The people complied, hovering for a bit longer, though at arm’s length. 

It felt weird, being praised like that. Mihawk wasn’t used to it, though he would be lying if he said it didn’t give him a _slight_ warm feeling in his chest after all the fighting. 

“Somebody bring Rina to the medicine house!” The woman called. A man, one of the fighters, came out from the crowd. 

“Gotcha Mayu,” he said, nodding at her, before he quickly took Rina from Shanks’s and Mihawk’s shoulders carefully, heading off towards the town. 

Mayu assessed Mihawk’s and Shank’s injuries, biting down at her bottom when looking at both their sorry states. 

“We need to get you patched up quickly, the balm won’t hold for longer,” Mayu muttered as she looked at Mihawk’s wounds, before glancing at Shanks. “And how are you walking with that leg?! Both of you needed emergency aid a long time ago, yet you’re still trying to put others above yourselves!” 

She motioned for two others to come forward, a woman and a man. 

“I’m going to need you two to be carried back, so that your wounds aren’t jousled more than they already have been,” she explained to Mihawk and Shanks, who gave her incredulous looks in return. 

Mihawk turned to run, before the woman grabbed his waist and plopped him on her shoulder. Shanks, on the other hand, protested over and over again with, “you don’t have to do that! I’m fine! Stop!”, although it didn’t work. He was put on the man’s back. 

Mihawk felt his ears turn red with embarrassment at being treated like playthings in front of the entire town, and he hung his head to hide his face. From the corner of his eye, he saw Shanks wiggle around for a second, before giving up and looking around in wonder. 

They both heard a muttered, “how are these children so smart, yet so dumb at the same time,” from Mayu as they were lead out of the beach, the townspeople following with cheers as the sun climbed out from behind the vanishing clouds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m pretty sure Roger’s bounty said “Gold Roger” instead of “Gol D. Roger”, so Mihawk and Shanks don't know his actual name until later.


	5. Journeying for what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't beta this chapter so if I have some mistakes on some parts, forgive thy soul pls

“NO! Let me go!” 

“Hold still! You’re not going anywhere until you’re healed!” 

“I’m not missing this!” 

“Stop taking off your bandages!” 

Mihawk exhaled slowly through his nose as he listened to Shanks and Mayu argue over whether Shanks would be allowed to go to the funeral that afternoon. Mayu reckoned that Shanks could go if he was carried, or put into a wheelchair, to which Shanks protested greatly to. 

“I’m fine, it’s not that big of a deal!” Shanks argued again, waving his arms around as the bandages unfurled from his hand down. Mayu looked horrified at the state of his dressings, scrambling to wrap them again. 

“You can barely walk after straining your legs!” She yelled back, forcing Shanks down. “You are not even standing until I make sure it’s healed enough!” 

“Shanks...just listen to her,” Mihawk almost begged. _Almost_. He was tired of hearing Shanks complain over the past few hours after they slept a mind-boggling twelve hours. It was already the second day he’d had to deal with staying next to Shanks 24/7. 

They were in the medicine house, a wooden eleven-room building, including the living room and the bathroom. Both Shanks and Mihawk were on separate beds next to each other, since Shanks insisted on it (Mihawk wished he protested more about that arrangement) in a room, separated by a hanging curtain. 

Sometimes, Shanks would open the curtain and yell “boo!” to scare Mihawk. It never worked. He was also never amused. 

The curtain was currently open, and Mihawk could see Shanks settle back against the pillows reluctantly. Mayu breathed a sigh of relief, wrapping the rest of the fresh bandages around his arm. 

“What’s up ya brats?” Rina’s voice came in through the door. Mihawk and Shanks instantly shot straight up, arms tense before they remembered that she was also severely injured, and could not beat the shit out of them. 

_“I’m sorry,” Rina said, brown hair mussed up as she walked through the doorway slowly in crutches. “It was my job to protect you two, and I left you both alone.”_

_She shakily hobbled on over to both Mihawk and Shanks, the both of them laying down on their bedding. Mihawk looked at her from his position without moving his neck, though Shanks attempted to get up in a half-lying position._

_“It’s fine!” Shanks consoled, giving her a small smile. “They were a lot stronger than any of us would’ve thought.” Mihawk nodded in agreement—Galvis’s bounty should’ve been higher, in all honesty._

_“Still…” Rina mumbled, lips pursed. When she looked back up, her eyes shone with a clear sheen, though no tears fell. “What if you two had died? What if more people were killed? I should’ve been stronger than that. It was absolutely pathetic.”_

_Normally, Mihawk would’ve told her to get stronger, to not wallow in self-pity, but…_

_“All that matters is that we’re alive, and that there were only a few casualties, thanks to you,” he said._

_“Yeah, you did the best you could!” Shanks exclaimed, giving her a thumbs up. “Besides, if you hadn’t taught us about haki before, maybe we’d actually be dead right now. The worst outcome didn’t occur, so stop worrying about the past!”_

_Rina gave them both a watery smile, before she hugged the both of them and brought them into her arms. She patted them both on the head, the warmth of her body seeping through Mihawk’s skin, and he closed his eyes to bask in the moment._

_“That was extremely courageous of you two to do,” she murmured. “I’m so proud of you guys.”_

It seemed she was feeling better, hobbling much more smoothly on her crutches than before as she strode in confidently. 

“How’re ya feeling kids?” She asked, standing next to their beds. Although she sounded nonchalant, Mihawk could feel her eyes examining for any sign of residue pain or discomfort. 

“Tell her I’m fine!” Shanks exclaimed, pointing at Mayu, who glared back. 

“Nah, Mayu’s always right.” 

“Traitor!” He burst out, causing Rina to cackle loudly. In spite of himself, Mihawk found himself hiding a small smile. 

* * *

“What happened with the pirates?” Mihawk asked Rina as they walked up Vylkonos at the back of the line, despite the protests from Mayu about their injuries every few minutes. Mihawk could still walk, albeit slowly, as Shanks was put into a wheelchair and wheeled up by one of the assistant medicine men. 

“Oh, we took back our transponder snails and called the marines,” Rina replied, brushing against a passing tree branch. “They came fairly quickly, and apprehended them. Left us their bounty money too.” 

Mihawk nodded in reply, relaxing slightly. Rina looked at him thoughtfully, before opening her mouth. 

“Hey, you’re leaving the island after, right? You’re going to need a fair amount of money for that.” 

_Don’t tell me she’s…_

“...So you can have all the bounty money. Our town got all our money back, plus more from the pirate’s treasury, so the extra money doesn’t really matter to us.”

Mihawk shook his head.

“I do not need all the money,” he said. “I only really defeated ‘Five-Clone’, so I will only take his bounty amount.” He wouldn’t take the bounties of those he didn’t defeat personally, otherwise, that would only give him a sour taste in the mouth. 

“Well, you can always change your mind,” Rina gave in, waving one hand over at Mihawk, before quickly grabbing her crutch as it fell. “You definitely need new clothes, and actual supplies. Maybe a new boat too, seeing how beat up yours is. And—” 

“It’s fine, I’ve always lived this way,” Mihawk replied, shaking his head. Rina did not look happy about that statement, muttering under her breath that he “..did not have to always look like a homeless scrap”, though she didn’t argue back. 

Shanks was still staring off into the distance, for whatever reason. Perhaps thinking about the Roger pirates, or about Tam. 

_Mihawk and Shanks were led into a separate room right before they left for the funeral procession. A small, frail body was on a bed, body so wrapped up in bandages that she looked slightly like a mummy. Beside her, an assistant medicine woman was tending to her, spreading fresh paste over her cut and taking out fresh bandages._

_“Hope you get well soon,” Shanks said, hovering over her._

_“Get well,” Mihawk repeated, giving a prayer, before they were both ushered out again._

Soon, they were at the top of the peak of Vylkonos, the wind blowing a cold breeze around the various townspeople gathered there. It was a fairly flat, but rocky peak, though looking over the edge, Mihawk could see the small, brown squares that indicated settlement below. 

There was very sparse vegetation, although a few bushes and trees were spotted among the rocky crevices here and there. The sun was slowly going down, it’s last dying glow casting light over the seven boxes containing the bodies in the center of the group. 

It wasn’t as somber an event as the ones at Westenra, Mihawk noticed, though it was still far from cheery. 

Slowly, one by one, each of the family members and friends of the deceased ones rose up and gave a statement. A few tears were shed here and there, and some had to pause for a moment before continuing on.

When Fuku’s turn came up, not one person stood up. Then, Shanks was wheeled behind Fuku’s coffin, his eyes somber. 

“I was only four years old when my parents died,” he began. “In a terrible explosion. I had no living relatives, and only Rina took care of me, at first. Even though she was always away on trips, I was never lonely, because of old man Fuku and my best friend, Tam.” 

The red glow of the sunset framed his hair, saturating its scarlet color. 

“I told him everything about my life, because I knew he would listen. He was always transparent, and kind, even if it didn’t seem like it on the surface,” Shanks continued. “He was a man true to his passion, his craft, and although he was not the most skilled fisherman, he was certainly the most dedicated.”

Slowly, his eyes began filling with hot tears, dripping down his cheeks and into the hard rock below. 

“There’s so many people I owe my life to, that I could not thank enough for their help in guiding me every step of the way, and old man Fuku is one of them. I hope he’s happy among the stars, now, looking over the ocean in death as in life.” 

Then, he nodded to the woman behind his wheelchair to move him away. Another man came out with a torch lit by a blue fire, his green robes grazing the ground slightly. A clear sheen over the coffins were seen with the fire so close to it.

Then, one-by-one, the man went around to light the coffins, which burst instantly into a brilliant blue flame, its strands grasping towards the darkening sky. 

Mihawk added in with his own prayer to their souls, especially to Fuku, as a last thanks for saving his life, as he watched the coffins quickly crumble and blow away with the night wind. 

* * *

_Finally, freedom!_ Shanks thought as he snuck out the window, still in his pajamas. Mihawk was napping at this time, so it wasn’t like he would be able to stop him now! 

Shanks looked around, before slowly inching down towards the ground instead of simply jumping down. Both his legs hurt when he put down weight onto them, but his right leg was slightly better so he leaned towards that side. 

Then, one step at a time, he walked towards his house. He was going to change into his normal, outside clothes, before grabbing his money so that perhaps he could buy a couple snacks. Mayu refused to let them eat junk food, which instantly made his want for junk food skyrocket. 

_See if she tries to stop me now_ , he thought, grinning as he opened his door with his key. He changed quickly and grabbed his money before heading into one of the side roads which would lead to a shopping street. 

He spotted a sign in front of a store which read: “Daisy’s candy shop.” He walked inside, the little bell dinging as the door closed behind him. The store owner, Daisy, looked up from the counter. In front of her were baskets full of various colors and sizes of candies, split between the hard and the soft candies. 

There was a flash of recognition in her eyes, before she smiled in greeting to Shanks. 

“Here, take this,” she said, handing him a small paper bag. “Pick out whatever candies you like, and then come back here to pay.” Shanks nodded in response, bounding over to see which ones he’d want. 

After a couple minutes of picking out various candies, he walked back to the lady, placing in front of her on the counter. 

“150 bellies,” she said, ringing up the order. Shanks pulled up the money, handing it over to her. She smiled back at him, giving him the bag, before he gave his thanks and walked out the store. 

It wasn’t until he opened his bag a few minutes later that he realized she had added in extra candy without him noticing, along with a smiley face on a piece of paper. 

He continued walking around, before he noticed a group of familiar pirates. 

“I didn’t get your name from before!” Roger called out, grinning as he walked on over. Rayleigh followed from close behind, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but there, along with another blue-haired boy with a weird-looking red nose. 

“My name’s Shanks!” He called back, popping a hard candy in his mouth. 

“Roger,” he replied, pointing at himself. “Rayleigh, and this twerp here is Buggy.” 

“Who’re you callin—” an enraged voice replied, the owner of which jumped up with fists up. 

“ —Anyways, what’s your answer?” Roger interrupted, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a smile. 

“I’ll join,” Shanks said with a determined expression, before hesitating. “...Uhh, is there any terms or conditions I should know…?” 

“Who’s this kid anyway?” Buggy muttered, yelping when Rayleigh slammed a fist on his head. “Waghhh!! That hurt!” 

“There’s always the risk of death,” Roger pointed out cheerily. “But joining my crew’s not a contract.” 

Buggy nodded furiously to the first statement, looking as if he was getting war flashbacks. Rayleigh grinned suddenly, walking forward to give Shanks a handshake. 

“Welcome to the crew, Shanks.” 

* * *

The town was buzzing with an unrestrained energy as the townspeople bustled around and decorated their houses and shops with flowers. Hanging above the streets were wreaths of leaves and bright pink flowers tied together, hanging from balconies and fences as many more were seen tied around various trees in the main square. 

Mihawk sneezed more than once at the amount of pollen in the air, nose red. 

_This is why I don’t live in tropical islands,_ he thought grumpily, watching the townspeople bustle around happily outside his window. 

Suddenly, Shanks came in through the window stealthily, moving one foot at a time down onto his bed. In his hands, he was carrying a paper bag bulging with items, or whatever was in there. Mihawk gave him a questioning look, although Shanks put one finger up to shush him in case. 

The door opened. 

“...Alright, time to change your—SHANKS!” Mayu yelled, suddenly lunging towards said person. Shanks let out the most unflattering, high-pitched scream, before attempting to go back out the window. She unrelentlessly dragged him down again, settling him in his bed and shutting the window. 

“What is that in your hand?!” She exclaimed, grabbing the paper bag as Shanks responded with a loud, “NOOOO!” 

“Candy?! I told you two, no junk food in here!” She lectured, giving them _both_ an aghast look. Mihawk gave her back an unimpressed look that said, _does it look like I was in with him?_

“Thanks for helping me open the window, Mihawk,” Shanks said, turning to look at him with a cheeky grin. 

All of a sudden, Mihawk felt like strangling a specific redhead. 

* * *

The situation was resolved with an hour rant, and in the end, Mayu let _Shanks_ keep _his_ candy bag. Mihawk gave Shanks the dirtiest look he could muster as soon as she exited the room. 

“You can have some if you want,” Shanks offered, pushing the open side of the bag towards him. 

A petty part of Mihawk wanted to refuse, just to spite him, but he took a piece of candy in the end. He quite liked the sweet treats, though it was rare for him to have spending money to buy them.

“I charge fifty percent tax for my services,” Mihawk deadpanned, giving Shanks the _look_. 

“You can just take however much, whenever,” Shanks replied, waving him off. _Acceptable response_. 

“...Why are there flowers,” Mihawk asked suddenly, thinking about the frenzied decorating going on. 

“Oh!” Shanks perked up, grinning, “It’s our annual Spring festival for the goddess Vylkonos, which, as you already know, is also the name of the highest peak in the back. There’s so much to do, like the gum tag competition and the flower toss and the sun dance!” 

Shanks looked excited for the festival, his eyes bright against the dim lighting of the room. A ray of light came from the window, brightening up the walls and doorway, although it was now closed so no fresh air was coming in. 

“How long is it?” 

“It’s always three days long, for the three days the goddess took to fight and win over the Winter Bear,” Shanks replied. “At least, that’s what old man Fuku told me about Tukimno’s legends.” 

Mihawk nodded in response, before asking, “are you leaving with your crew after?” 

“..Yeah,” he replied, looking up at the ceiling and smiling. 

“Then I will too,” Mihawk replied, closing his eyes and easing back. 

* * *

“Tam is awake, if you two want to see her,” Mayu said. Shanks and Mihawk looked up from their game of checkers quickly, before they cleaned up the board and slowly got off their beds with the help of Mayu. 

They were led to Tam’s room, just across the hall, where she was looking around in confusion. Then, she saw Shanks and Mihawk, her eyes lighting up.

“Shanks! Mihawk!” She exclaimed, waving at them. “What happened?” 

Mihawk and Shanks each grabbed a chair near them, settling them down on the sides of Tam’s bed. Mihawk looked at Shanks, who started explaining everything that happened before and after Tam fell unconscious, from his side. 

“Are you two okay?!” Was the first thing that burst out of her mouth when Shanks was finished. She looked over at the numerous bandages wrapping around their bodies, although Shanks protested quickly.

“We’re good! We’re fine! Look at yourself first, Tam!” 

She looked down, before her eyes bulged out in shock over how much bandages she was wrapped in. 

“I’m a mummy!” She screamed. 

* * *

It was afternoon now, the hues of red and orange mixing together, as if the sky itself was lit ablaze with fire. 

Mihawk was walking besides Shanks in his wheelchair (he had to fight with Mayu for a full two hours before he was allowed out by himself), who was pulling on the wheels to propel himself through the town. Tam was being pulled by Mihawk in a heavily tilted wheelchair, since she was unable to fully sit upright, nonetheless walk. 

In the main square, brilliantly colorful stalls were set up all along the sides, selling various types of food and sake, along with other merchandise. In the center, a few tables were set up with various toys for games, free for all to use, which was behind a large, orange tarp that encompassed a group of dancers. 

To the side, a group of townspeople played drums, the thumping of the beats adding on to the festive mood in the air, as children ran around playfully. Most of the people around them wore flower crowns or necklaces, with the women braiding colorful flowers into their own hair as well. 

“Let’s go make a flower crown!” Tam exclaimed, pointing towards a free table where many of the adults were fastening together flowers, along with their children. 

“Sure,” Shanks said, shrugging. He didn’t seem all too interested in making a flower crown, although he was willing to go along with it if it made Tam happy. 

They walked on over—or, at least, Mihawk did—and imitated what the adults did. Mihawk had to go and pick the flowers, before coming back quickly with two handfuls of the colorful plants. 

He had no problem making a flower crown, although Shanks loudly groaned everytime his fell apart, which was quite a bit. Tam also had a bit of trouble, although it was more because of her tilted position rather than her skillfulness. 

“Here, copy me,” Mihawk sighed as Shanks failed for the umpteenth time. He undid his flower crown, before redoing it slowly, step by step. 

“Look!” Tam exclaimed, grinning as she placed her orange-and-yellow crown atop her blue hair. 

“Hella ugly,” Shanks teased, before she slammed her hand into his arm. Or, at least, tried to, since she was still technically bed-but-not-bed-ridden. 

“I got it!” Shanks exclaimed as he proudly showed off his pink-and-blue crown. Mihawk gave him a nod of approval, mainly because he was tired of redoing his own crown. 

“Why’d you dismantle yours?” Shanks asked, looking at Mihawk’s now-empty hands. 

“...I’m not making another one,” he deadpanned, getting up from his seat. 

“Wait!” Shanks said, motioning Mihawk to crouch down, before placing his flower crown on Mihawk’s head. “There!” 

Mihawk looked at him, confused, moving to take the thing off. 

“Don’t take it off!” Shanks had to hurriedly say, waving his hands. “You look nice...in that. It looks cu-great on you! It wouldn’t be as cool on me as you anyway.” His face was as red as his hair. Mihawk raised one eyebrow at him, amused, although he didn’t argue back. 

“Aww, you look adorable!” Tam gushed, giving him a thumbs up. 

Then, they went through the various stalls, trying out the food and playing a few games along the way. Both Shanks and Tam were crushed that they could not participate in any of the games, seeing as they were still in wheelchairs, although they urged Mihawk to do it for them. 

He was sure they only pushed him into the competitions in order to watch him be utterly humiliated. He was going to remember this act of treason. 

Before long, Shanks and Tam were both begging Rina to buy them one of Tukimno’s best sake, and she agreed instantly with a dark smirk. Mihawk didn’t quite trust any of them to have a single good intention. 

“Let’s head over to the moonlight patch,” Shanks told Tam, who agreed. Then, Tam turned to Mihawk, and explained what the “moonlight patch” was.

“It’s an extremely popular place to picnic at on our island! It’s a flat, grassy area on the ground near Avaco peak, and there’s tons of moon flowers around. It’s especially popular with couples, but I’ve seen a lot of friends go together as well!” 

“The grass changes to blue, and the moon flowers glow during the night time,” Shanks added on, excited. “You’ll love it, trust me, it’s one of the most beautiful gardens ever!” 

And it was. 

The silvery moon shone down upon the softly glowing white flowers, as fireflies flew around the area. A few benches were set up around the paved paths, which created an intricate design of a heart in the middle, as both couples and friends sat down amongst the bluish grass. 

“Try it!” Shanks exclaimed, holding a cup of sake out to Mihawk, who accepted it with both hands. 

“Agh!” Rina gasped out, licking her lips as she already finished a cup. “This is a once-in-a-year chance, so try out some of our sake! I won’t tolerate this any other time, so better do it now!” 

Tam and Mihawk nodded, each taking a tiny sip. Tam almost spit hers out immediately, looking like she wanted to gag, while Mihawk drank the rest of the cup.

_Not bad,_ he thought. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, in all honesty. 

Then, he looked around, seeing the smiling expressions on Tam, Rina, and Shanks as they laughed at Tam’s reddish face, already a bit woozy. 

_This isn’t so bad, either._

* * *

Soon enough, two more days passed. Mihawk and Shanks began cleaning up the house, and Shanks was starting to be able to walk again, albeit with a limp. Days before, Mihawk had already turned out the Navigator, as she was filled with water, and washed her clean, since she had been stuck there for a couple of days. 

Mihawk and Shanks often visited Rina and Tam, while also preparing for their trip away, though it was mainly Shanks. Mihawk didn’t have much he’d really prepare in between trips—he didn’t feel the need to pack so much. 

“Ready?” Mihawk asked, looking back towards Shanks. 

He grinned. “Always.” 

The sun was bright up ahead, the chill morning air already dissipating as the temperature warmed up. The townspeople were already bustling in their shops, as children walked the streets to the local school. 

Mihawk and Shanks walked up to the medicine house one last time, knocking on the door. Mayu threw open the door, pursing her lips when she saw the packs on their backs. 

She crouched down to sweep them both into a warm hug, pulling them close to her. 

“Good luck, and stay safe out there, boys. Remember to keep the bandages on until you’re healed—” she looked at Shanks “ —and to take care of yourselves.” 

Then, she released them, giving them a small smile as she stood up, motioning them insides. They walked into Rina’s room, who perked up on her bed as soon as the door opened. 

“Look who’s growing up already!” She exclaimed, grin wide. “Moving out already!” 

“Yeah,” Shanks replied, slightly abashed as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Come here you two,” Rina called out, motioning them towards her. Shanks and Mihawk looked at each other, before crowding around her, curious. 

“Take this, you two,” she said, taking out a white piece of paper and tearing two pieces from it. “This is my vivre card. If you ever need me for anything, this paper will lead you boys back to me, wherever I am. It’s also waterproof and fireproof, so don’t worry about it breaking.” 

_Oh_ , Mihawk thought, grasping one of the pieces. _You learn something new everyday_. 

“Also, here is a new saber for you, Shanks, since you’ve always talked my ear off about wanting one,” she continued, grin becoming wider at Shanks’s immediate gasp. 

“Wha—really?!” He stammered as she held it out for him. Mihawk examined the sword, noticing its sleek grip covered with green rubber, while the pommel and cross-guard were newly shined and glowed golden in the sunlight. 

“You didn’t have to! Oh Tukimno, this must’ve been really expensive,” Shanks rambled, before Rina just shoved the saber in his hand with a curt “take it already!”

“And you, Mihawk!” Rina added on, turning to him and slamming a semi-large, leather case onto her bed. “This is a sword-sharpening-and-cleaning kit! In it, I’ve taken the liberty to add something a lil’ extra, but you _must_ promise not to open until you make it to the next island.” 

“I promise,” Mihawk answered. “...And thank you, for everything.” This was _perfect_. His honing oil was starting to run out as well. 

“Thank you!” Shanks repeated, widely smiling as he admired the new saber. 

“Hey, give me one last hug!” Rina demanded, as she put her arms around them one last time. She gripped Shanks’s and Mihawk’s shoulders tightly, before letting go and ruffling their hair.

“Keep yourselves safe out there, ‘kay? And keep in touch with me, don’t go disappearing off the grid alright?” 

Mihawk and Shanks both gave her a vigorous nod, and Rina smiled brightly in response.

* * *

“You’re leaving already?!” Tam exclaimed, suddenly scrambling up. “Wait, wait, I thought you were leaving in the afternoon, I’m not ready!” 

“Well hurry up Tam, we’re still gonna leave at the same time!” Shanks laughed. 

“Get ready faster,” Mihawk added on, just to tease a little. Tam puffed out her cheeks, before she took out two items—a cross, and a first aid kit. 

“This is for you, Shanks,” Tam said, giving him the first aid kit. “Inside it is Tukimno’s specially made balms and medicines. I know somehow, you’ll get into trouble, especially when out in the seas, so I wanted to make sure you come home safe!” 

Shanks looked touched, giving her a “thank you” and a brief hug. Then, she turned to Mihawk.

“This is for you, Mihawk,” she continued, giving him the cross. “If you pull from the top and bottom—”, The cross was revealed to be a small knife, “ —it becomes a knife. It’s the family heirloom I was talking about a few days ago, and I wanted you to have it, since my father was from Westenra as well. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you’re unarmed, or your sword breaks, just take this out!” 

“Thank you,” Mihawk replied sincerely, putting the cross necklace around his neck immediately. “Best of luck, and make sure not to do anything reckless.” 

“Hey, if a guy harasses you, just call my number okay?” Shanks added on, cracking his knuckles. “And big brother will beat him up any time of the day!” Tam giggled to that, replying with an “okay, but that applies to you too!” 

They enjoyed the moment for a bit, as the morning breeze blew through the open window, causing the white curtain next to Tam to flap lazily. Then, slow hiccups turned to open sobs as clear tears fell down Tam’s face, her face scrunched up and nose wrinkled. 

“I-I’m gonna miss you guys!” Tam cried, trying to wipe away her tears to no avail. Mihawk and Shanks hovered around her, looking at each other, unsure of what to do. “If you guy d-die, then I’ll never f-forgive you both, you know?!” 

“We’ll keep in contact,” Mihawk comforted, giving her an awkward half-smile. He was aiming more for reassuring, but it only caused Tam to cry more. 

“Don’t worry about it, we’re both super strong, right Mihawk?” Shanks reassured, glancing over at Mihawk for confirmation. 

“Sure.” 

“See? We’ll be fine alright?” Shanks continued, patting Tam on the back as she continued crying. 

They heard a commotion at the door suddenly, a familiar voice calling out, “so Shanks is here eh? We’re setting off soon!” 

Shanks and Mihawk both gave Tam a brief hug, with Shanks saying, “I have to go soon, alright? But I promise, we’ll see each other again soon, I won’t forget!” and Mihawk giving her a fist bump, before they walked out the door. 

* * *

Roger and Rayleigh walked with them along the way, Roger’s boisterous laughter filling up the air. Shanks and Mihawk continued chatting along the way, with Shanks rambling as always and Mihawk giving one or two words in acknowledgement. 

Along the way, some of the townspeople had stuffed various fruits and other items into Shanks’s and Mihawk’s arms, both of whom attempted to give it back, to no avail. Most of them waved goodbye, calling out a “goodluck” and a “stay safe!”  
  
It was all too soon when they got to the beach, the once near-empty sandy space becoming bustling once more with people going through their daily motions.

Shanks stepped in front of Roger’s ship, back to Mihawk, as Roger and Rayleigh walked up the wooden gangway. Roger turned back for a second, watching their exchange, before he smiled and continued walking. 

“Mihawk,” he started, whirling around to reveal snot and tears dripping down his scrunched face, looking exactly like Tam had before. 

“Thank you for these last few days! I never imagined something like this would happen to me, a random town kid in the middle of West Blue! Fighting against plundering pirates, celebrating together, joining a pirate crew—it feels like a dream. So again, thank you!” 

Mihawk chuckled, taking out a slightly-wrinkled, dried-up flower crown from his backpack and putting it on Shanks’s head. 

“I need to say that to you. Thank you for lending your house and bringing me along,” he replied, smiling softly. “If we do not meet again on the seas anytime the next year, I’ll revisit Tukimno on the same day I arrived this year.” 

Shanks nodded, and then slammed into Mihawk, arms around him in a bear hug. Then, he let go, sniffling slightly, before running onto the gangway. 

Mihawk watched Shanks go, his red hair contrasting against the dark wood of Roger’s ship. Then, Mihawk turned around, walking to Navigator. He untied her, feeling the breeze come in above and shake the leaves of the palm tree above him. 

He pushed the little dinghy with his case and foodstuff from the townspeople down onto the ocean, noticing that the boat looked a lot more fixed than before. 

_Someone repaired Navigator,_ Mihawk thought, feeling the warm wood beneath his fingertips. He took one last look at the beach, at the colorful hair atop working people, at Shanks leaning on the railing, before pushing his dinghy out to sea and jumping into it.

The wind picked up, throwing dark locks around as yellow eyes looked towards the horizon. 

“MIHAWK!” Shank’s voice called out distantly from behind him, quickly becoming a red speck in the distance. “We’ll meet again, right?!” 

Mihawk looked back, feeling the salt of the waves on his tongue. 

“Of course!” He yelled back as loud as he could. “Until next time, Shanks!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even happened? I meant to make Mihawk’s childhood arc like one chapter, and now it’s five. His entire life was supposed to be around five chapters, but this happened? I never even meant to bring OCs into this, but here we go. 
> 
> I know this was like one sentence of the chapter, but I hope I did taxes justice, bc I don’t know much about taxes lol. I just know income taxes and tax brackets exist, but idk much about rates and how they work.
> 
> Anyway, finally the childhood arc is over! Now, the story's gonna get to the teen adventures, which I'm looking forward to.
> 
> One last thing: I know that Shanks and Mihawk are kinda OOC right now, but they're going to grow into their adult selves later on :) I still wanted to give Mihawk a less serious demeanor while also keeping him in character, while Shanks is just kinda being Shanks as always. But he also grows up to be more serious and clever, which will happen.


	6. Coming Home to What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry mihawk

_“This is a sword-sharpening-and-cleaning kit! In it, I’ve taken the liberty to add something a lil’ extra, but you must promise not to open until you make it to the next island.”_

Mihawk looked down at a burlap bag, filled to the brim with money—bounty money. A lot more than what Twig was worth. 

He closed his eyes, leaned back, and opened his eyes. Closed. Then opened again. 

**“RINA!!!”**

* * *

  
  


**-Two Years Later-**

Mihawk dodged another blow from the man’s mace, clutching Raitoningu in both hands. 

“Phoenix Dance.” 

A flurry of movement, and the sound of a body hitting the street. Around them, the various bystanders were scuttling around, on edge, looking at him with apprehensive eyes. 

“That’s Hawk-Eye Mihawk.” 

“I didn’t think he’d be this young.”

“I heard he’s taken the bounties of 1,000 pirates!” 

Mihawk wiped the blood off Raitoningu with the pirate’s clothes, sheathing her back. He took out a sepia poster from his bag, glancing from it to the man’s face. 

_This amount...will account for food costs for the next two months,_ Mihawk thought, nodding internally. 

Over the course of the last two years, he’d been traveling around as always, collecting the bounties of every notable pirate he’d come across. He’d gone to the Grand Line for half a year, honing his haki and sword techniques, before coming back to Rujol in the East Blue. 

Granted, the Sea Kings had broken Navigator while he was on the Calm Belt, so he’d had to hitch a ride on a nearby marine ship by impersonating one of the marines. He’d never wanted to do it again. 

But...he was going home, after three years. 

A vein popped out in his forehead, thinking back to devastating fire, to broken buildings, to terrified screams and clinking weapons. 

_“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine,” his mother cried, hugging Mihawk tightly. Then, she quickly gave a prayer, whispering for his safety, before pushing him into a little dinghy._

_She caressed a thumb over his cheek, smiling softly._

_“Be careful out there. I love you, star.”_

_Mihawk reached out for her, fingers barely brushing against hers._

_“Wait—”_

_She pushed the boat._

His heart twinged slightly in pain. He knew his mother was going to disapprove of him coming back, since she’d gone through all the trouble of getting him off...but it was something he had to do. 

He was strong enough, now. 

* * *

  
  


The bell clinked pleasantly as Mihawk walked into the store, an open breeze coming in. The little store was as dingy as always, though the swords had changed since the last time he’d been there.

The store owner woke up at the sound, blinking awake. “Oh, welcome—”.

Then, he blinked again. 

“You’re that kid.” 

Mihawk nodded, looking around at the swords hanging on the walls, colorful tassels and intricately designed cross guards adorning the smooth hilts. 

“Ah! You still have Raitoningu, I see!” He exclaimed, eyes lighting up at the familiar blue hilt. He walked over to Mihawk, looking over the sword. “Can I see her?” 

Mihawk unsheathed Raitoningu, the blade flashing in the light. The owner grasped her, and, with a grace only a swordsman would have, seemingly sliced the very air apart. 

_He’s good,_ Mihawk thought, surprised. It hadn’t seemed that way, from the laid-back demeanor of the store owner. 

“I never got your name,” Mihawk stated, curious. The owner paused. Then, he gave Raitoningu back to Mihawk, stretching his back out.

“Kazuo. No last name.” 

“Dracule Mihawk.” 

Kazuo’s eyes suddenly widened, his eyes drifting to the cross necklace Mihawk was wearing. 

“Where did you get that?” He asked, arms trembling noticeably even though he was hiding his hands behind his back. Mihawk’s eyes sharpened, the pupil rings stark against gold iris.

“...Why do you want to know?” he uttered slowly. 

Kazuo took a step back, before slowly rubbing a hand down his face.

“It belonged to my missing daughter,” he confessed, fiddling with his floral shirt. “Her name was Tam.” 

_Wait_. 

“...Tam.”

Kazuo’s eyebrows knitted together. “Yes, that’s her name.”

Mihawk bit the inside of his cheek, before indicating to the two chairs beside a small, wooden table near the counter. 

“I know where Tam is. If you really are her father, then I will tell you where she is,” he replied, tapping one finger against Raitoningu. “What is a fact you can remember about her?” 

“How can I be sure that you’re trustworthy?” Kazuo bluntly asked, crossing his arms. 

“You can’t,” Mihawk shrugged. “You can only take my word that I would never take this heirloom by force.” At the sound of ‘heirloom’, Kazuo was taken back, before he sighed. 

“Alright, I’ll trust that you’re telling the truth,” he gave in, leading them both to the rickety old table. 

* * *

  
  


They talked for a few hours. Kazuo had told him that he'd always been a swordsman, though he was forced to quit when he acquired an injury on both his arms, leading to a weakness in that area and spasms every so often that would render him incapable of holding a sword. 

Mihawk felt a bit of sympathy at that, not knowing what he’d do if he couldn’t use his sword anymore. Kazuo then went on to explain that he’d been a pirate, before he’d quit soon after to live his life as a shopkeeper.

Along the way, he’d gotten married and had a daughter, which was Tam, but…

_“Irina! Tam!” Kazuo cried out, running through water-logged streets, slipping twice on soaked stone paths. “Yell back if you can hear! It’s Kazuo! Irina!”_

_He came to a stop in front of the harbor suddenly, feeling fierce rain against cold skin, as the ocean waves raged around him. A marine ship was docked towards the right, imposing and dim in the gloomy weather, the marines running around frantically as explosions rang out on the other side of the town._

_“Have any of you seen a woman with blue hair?!” Kazuo yelled, his hands bracketing his mouth. A young marine paused, the wind buffeting his white jacket violently around._

_“Y—” he started to say, before he stumbled when a large wave rocked against the ship._

_“Yes?!” Kazuo shouted, a wisp of hope curling in his chest. “Where’d you see her?”_

_“She was running out of the town,” the marine quickly restarted, shifting his hat against the rain. “...There. Then she looked behind her and ran back along the path.”_

_Kazuo turned around, preparing to run back towards the town, where the revolts were happening. He gripped tighter on the sword in his hand, lips pressed in a hard line as he rushed back along the path._

_Then, from his peripheral, he saw the young marine running beside him._

_“I need to head in the same direction,” he reassured._

_The rain poured hard around then, as if a waterfall was being dumped out the smoky clouds. Around them, various children and adults were running to their homes, a frenzied atmosphere filling the cobbled streets._

_Ahead, Kazuo saw a bed of blue hair, gaze sharpening. There._

_Irina—Kazuo’s wife—was struggling against a couple of civilians, wildly thrashing around and biting at any appendages. Around her were the other revolters, carrying pitchforks and guns while gusts of wind gushed by._

_“IRINA!” Kazuo screamed, pushing his energy onto his legs for a quick push, slicing the arm off of the man who’d been holding her down. He knelt next to her, quickly shooting any person who’d come closer a venomous glare._

_“Kazuo!” She gasped, eyes shining in relief. Even soaking wet and looking like she’d crawled out a lion’s den, she was still the most beautiful person there._

_“BREAK IT UP!” The young marine yelled, holding out his hands between them and the mob. “Your problem’s with me.” A red and gold liquid, slightly viscous, poured out slowly over his hands, the steam from raindrops hitting the hot surface flying away with the wind._

_Irina grasped his shoulders, eyes desperate as tears flowed out. “Kazuo! Tam’s missing! I couldn’t find her at all after lunch today, please—”_

_Suddenly, her head snapped up._

_“WATCH OUT!” She screamed, pushing both the marine and Kazuo down the slope of the street._

_The last thing Kazuo saw of her was her sad smile, as lovely as the day he’d first met her, before a brilliant gold and crimson explosion burst from the center of the town, the very stone forming spider webbed cracks beneath their fingers as dust flew abound._

_The shockwaves burst out from the epicenter, destroying buildings and street lights near it, causing the marine to cover Kazuo with his own body as debris fell around them._

_As Kazuo lost his consciousness, the only thing replaying in his mind were her last moments._

“I couldn’t give this back to that young marine after that day,” Kazuo said, handing Mihawk a ragged blue and white bandana. “He’d patched up my shoulder with the bandana he’d kept on his shoulder and took me to the hospital. If you ever meet him again, tell him…”

Kazuo closed his eyes for a second, pondering. Then, he opened them.

“...Tell him he’s welcome to visit my shop anytime. And remind him that I’m still indebted to him.” 

Mihawk gazed down at the bandana, before tying it around his forearm. 

“I will,” he simply replied. Then, he opened his mouth. 

“Tam is on Tukimno island, West Blue, in a little house by the apothecary. She gave me her cross as a blessing, as she told me you were also from Westenra.” 

“I am,” Kazuo responded, rubbing his chin with one hand and nodding approvingly. “She’s made a good choice.” 

Then, he got off the stool, stretching his back slowly. He grabbed a piece of paper quickly, writing down a few numbers before handing it off to Mihawk. 

“Looks like I’m indebted to two people now. Call me if you’re ever in trouble, and I’ll come, alright?” 

* * *

“Hello?” A high-pitched voice came out of the transponder snail.

“Tam,” Mihawk started. “....Your father is currently heading over to Tukimno.” 

“MY _WHAT_?!” 

* * *

Once again, Mihawk climbed into his new boat, pushing her out to sea. He hadn’t named her yet, as the loss of Navigator still stung. He couldn’t put a finger to it, but it felt...as if something was different. Nothing wasn’t quite right. 

_Close now,_ Mihawk thought, feeling adrenaline course through his veins. _Wait for me, Westenra_. He gave a prayer, hoping that his mother was still alive—that the village was still intact, despite the cruelty of the pirates. 

The sky was an ash gray, thick clouds blocking out light from the sun. The winds were starting to gain speed, but there didn’t seem to be any sign of rain coming. It was a familiar sight. 

A black speck suddenly appeared in the distance, the spiked trees visible even from Mihawk’s location. 

_There…!_

He unsheathed Raitoningu, awaiting for his arrival at the island. Then, he narrowed his eyes, feeling a frown tug at his lips.

The closer he came to Westenra, the more...desolate it looked. Lonely. The single volcano rose from the dark soil, a couple crosses stuck in the ground along the sides of the island. Broken ruins of burnt stone buildings rose up from a solidified magma ground, though a few green vegetation poked out here and there.

There was nobody. 

Mihawk docked, hurrying to tie his boat onto a tree, before rushing onto the solid ground. 

“Anybody there?!” He called out, running along the empty ruins, touching the ashy areas of the stone bricks. “Hello?” 

No reply. A couple crows flew out from the spiked, blank trees, the branches quivering under the lost weight. 

“...Anybody?” Mihawk asked, voice small suddenly. There was a sudden tightness in his chest, but he gritted his teeth, looking around. 

There was Granny Lin’s house, the church, the small park where he’d once accidentally sliced a tree in half, the alleyway where he’d first found a discarded sword, his first one; the mayor’s building that was once full of life, the garden where the seniors would usually hang out at, the— 

—the house where he’d lived for over thirteen years. 

He took one step towards the half-collapsed house, then two. Then three. Four— 

—Until he reached out to touch the ash coating the once pristine bricks, feeling thousands of nostalgic memories rush back inside his head. 

_“Dracule! Stop practicing inside!”_

_“I’m banned from the park! Where else do I go?”_

The door was hanging by one screw, squeaking in the wind. 

_“You see all those stars in the sky? Each one represents a living soul, and yours—yep, that one—is the brightest.”_

He walked through the doorway, examining every inch of what was left of the house. A bent sword sat on a crumpled couch, rusty after having been left there so long. 

_“Your friend’s here! Quit fiddling with that sword and greet him!”_

_“I know mom! I will be finished sharpening it soon!”_

Surely there was something lodged in his throat now. It was so tight, a hot, inexplicable feeling traveling from his chest, to his jugular, to his eyes, where it gathered in an increasingly heated pool. 

_“Happy birthday, star! I got a present for you!”_

_Everybody’s gone,_ he thought, biting down on his cheek until he tasted copper. _They’re….gone. I was too late._

A feeling of pure anguish and grief ran up and pushed out from his eyes at the realization, the hot tears spilling over over his cheeks and dripping onto the ground he stood on. He collapsed against his bedroom wall with weak knees, the once-painted white walls now gray and black. 

It hurt—it hurt _so bad_. He’d been in denial before, the realization not setting in until now—his heart clenched in a surge of pain, and he clutched at his chest, trying to stifle his crying with a palm over his mouth, as if there was anybody to hear him break down. 

_“What are you crying about, star? Let it out, I’ll be here to listen.”_

His mother, his friends, Granny Lin, the friendly craftsmen, the kind bookstore owner who’d always give out discounts, the teachers— 

—none of them would smile, would laugh or wave or call at him ever again. Their futures, gone with the ashes of a dead settlement. 

Why didn’t he come back earlier? When he was traveling around, ignorantly hunting down notable pirates, how much were they suffering? How arrogant was he to think—to think after three years, that he could just come back and expect them to still be the same? 

_Idiot_ , Mihawk thought, tightening his fist over his chest, another wave of tears coming out from his thoughts. _Idiot, you fucking idiot—_

Late, once again, like always. _Why can’t you do anything correctly?_

Regret, regret, regret—it consumed him like a torrent, filling his head with doubts and memories of the past, of what could’ve been, of his precious people, of happy memories and a once beautiful civilization— 

—but he cried, all alone, in a desolate wasteland. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Setting and Characters so far:
> 
> Tukimno (West Blue):  
> -Where Shanks is born  
> -Mayu (town medicine woman, saved Tam's life)  
> -Rina (bounty hunter, haki-user)  
> -Fuku (dead, former ?)  
> -Tam (Shanks's childhood friend. Daughter of Kazuo and Irina)  
> -Three peaks on surrounding mountains: Avaco, Vylkonos, and one more
> 
> Westenraa (East Blue):  
> -Where Mihawk was born  
> -Devastated by volcanic explosion, kinda like Pompeii
> 
> Rujol (East Blue)  
> -Where Kazuo sets up shop (former pirate, don't know which crew)
> 
> Roger Kaizoku:  
> -Roger  
> -Rayleigh (first mate)  
> -Shanks (11)  
> -Buggy


	7. Your reason for what?

“Westenra’s gone,” Mihawk intoned monotonously, eyes aching from emptied tear ducts. “Most likely from a volcanic explosion.” 

“....Gone?” Kazuo’s voice came through the snail, its large eyes blinking in shock. 

“Yes.” 

The snail’s eyes looked down, its jaw hinged open. Then, its eyes went back up, imitating Kazuo’s facial expressions.

“So...was there anybody there?” He asked, a desperate tinge in his voice. Mihawk clutched at solidified black rock, leaning against ashy walls. 

“No.” 

Kazuo closed his mouth. “I see. I’m sorry, I need to hang up.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Mihawk replied, closing the call. Then, he lifted his head to watch the crows fly around above, the black feathered bodies dancing in the wind. The wind was continuously flowing over the smooth ground, brushing over his exposed chest and limbs. 

Mihawk grasped his cross necklace, unsheathing it to look at his reflection. 

_Failure,_ a voice whispered.

_I know,_ he thought, lifting the knife against the dim sky, its shadow dark against the dreary lighting. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, closing his eyes. Then, he sheathed the knife again, getting up again and brushing off the dust from his stained shorts. 

_It’s useless to continue crying,_ he thought, steeling his resolve. Mihawk decided to walk around the old house, scavenging around for anything worth looking at again. 

An old watch. A broken lamp. A sooty stuffed rabbit. 

Rubbish items, but Mihawk had still brushed the residue of volcanic ash off them, setting them in a cleaner location. He rearranged them as if they were a museum collection, feeling a few cold wisps of wind blow steadily through the half-opened walls. 

Then, he paused, spotting a wide-brimmed black hat with a white plume inside his mother’s closet. 

_This is…_ He thought, recalling the memories of his mother’s hat making business. _One of her greatest creations._

_“Look, Dracule! Doesn’t this look cool?” His mother gushed, holding out a newly fabricated hat. It was made of sleek wool felt, the thick, white plumes of feathers popping out of the hat like a smoke out of a chimney._

_“It looks lame,” Mihawk bluntly replied._

_“You are hereby banned from saying anything bad about my baby,” she retaliated, clutching the hat to her chest. “My best creation yet! Hmph, he just doesn’t recognize your potential, Mr. Cloud.”_

_Mihawk continued working on his homework, used to her antics._

He placed it on his head, feeling ridiculous when the hat slipped over his eyes. It was still too big. He took it off, placing the hat under his left arm, before climbing out the ruins of the doorway. 

  
  


Mihawk walked over to the exposed crosses lining the extremities of the island, close down to the black sand beach. Some of the lava had reached the waters, although a lot of the wooden crosses were still intact. 

Most of them had fallen, so he’d grasped the thick, wooden sides of them and pulled them upright again. Then, he organized them around in their correct arrangement, giving a prayer after. 

The crosses stayed tight against the wind like soldiers guarding a settlement, imposing and dark from the volcanic ash. They were the only noticeable features among the desolate landscape. 

Mihawk went to his knees, almost slamming his head against the ground and scrunching his eyes closed. 

“Thank you!” 

_For everything._

He stayed there for a few moments, feeling the cool igneous rock press against his forehead, before getting up once more. 

Then, with the wind at his back and a hat in one hand, he finally left Westenra.

* * *

  
  


Mihawk tied the black sails back to the single mast, dropped back down onto his seat when he was finished. He was back in the Grand Line now, the vast ocean surrounding him as a few wisps of cirrus clouds lined the sky. 

He was bored. 

The sea monsters themselves were no real match—the irritating part of it was when they would try to bite the boat in half. He didn’t feel like hitching another ride on a marine ship. 

The needle on his log pose was spinning frantically, most likely broken, so he’d just decided to trust his boat to take him where an island was. Evidently, he was not a navigator. Mihawk leaned back on the mast, placing the hat over his face to begin his nap. 

The sun felt pleasant against his skin, and the weather was temperate. He felt himself slipping into sleep quickly. 

“ _Ohhh_ , what is this?”

Mihawk cracked open an eye, tilting his head to let the hat fall off his face. He turned his face to the speaker, spotting a giant, white ship in front of him. The navy blue symbol of the marines glared back at him, pasted across the side. 

He ignored them, closing his eyes again. 

“Hawk-Eyes.” This time, it was a different voice—deeper and rougher than the chirpy one from before. Mihawk reluctantly opened his eyes again, slowly sitting up. 

“What?” He asked, slightly irritated. 

“That ban—” the marine, looking around his twenties, started. He had a flower tattoo curling around his right arm, sneaking into a white vest. Mihawk suddenly grabbed Raitoningu, slashing towards the ship as a sea king towered behind the ship’s deck, its jaws unhinged wide open. 

“Get away!” Another marine yelled, readying the cannon quickly. Mihawk’s eyes darkened, and he quickly threw on his backpack while grabbing his hat. The marine who’d been talking to him suddenly formed magma fists, hurling the molten liquid towards his boat. 

“Ne, Saka-kun, there’s pirates in the distance,” A third marine asked, adjusting his yellow beanie. He looked like a preppy monkey in human form, yellow sunglasses glittering atop his head.

“What?!” The magma marine yelled, whirling around. 

Mihawk cut open the cannonball and magma fist with a haki-enhanced sword, letting the two halves of both plonk into the ocean uselessly behind him. He was still tense, eyes narrowed at the ship as the panicked marines continued firing cannons. 

_Perhaps I should have called out the sea king instead,_ Mihawk thought, slightly amused. At least this was providing more entertainment than he’d had the past few days. He kept slicing the cannonballs apart, letting them explode either behind him or in the air. 

“Flying slash!” He yelled, tensing his arms and slashing upwards in the general direction of the ship. A glowing green slice came out from Raitoningu, the attack cutting through the cannonball and one of the thick masts, causing it to fall down upon the main deck. 

_Interesting_ , Mihawk thought, realizing that perhaps using an experimental technique to dismantle simple cannonballs might have instead caused further damage, due to its strength. 

His theory was proven when “Saka-kun” became enraged, shouting, “meteor shower!” 

The monkey-like marine also held up a glowing yellow hand, smiling cheekily. “Comma Jewel of Eight Shaku.” 

Mihawk raised Raitoningu in caution, its blade glinting with the reflection of the sun. Bursts of light and fists of magma came flying at him from all directions, moving in quickly with an initial burst of speed. 

He countered each attack, feeling himself get pushed back from the full frontal assault. He suddenly watched as one of the magma fists flew into the water, solidifying instantly into black rock before sinking, flashing back to dark crosses and dismal ruins— 

—then, his ship exploded. 

Mihawk enhanced the exposed portions of his body with armament haki, covering his belongings with his body as he flew back into the air. He felt the heat against his protected skin, though the parts where the haki didn’t reach burned with pain. 

He frowned at his singed hair as he flew through the sky, watching the marine ship quickly become a white speck. 

_Another ship,_ he thought, annoyed. He was now setback because of another trivial skirmish, and still had no idea where he was supposed to be going. _What a mess._

His belongings were just the slightest bit burned, though they were mainly unharmed. The wind whistled through his black jacket and hair, a few seagulls squawking when he almost hit them. He stole a newspaper from the News Coo among them, not feeling guilty when the gull shot him an enraged glare after him. 

He had a second to read “Massive influx of refugees at--” before feeling himself slam into a solid surface, the pain coming even though the haki-protected areas. He swore he felt something break, perhaps in his ankle area, but he quickly ignored the agony in his back and legs sparking when he stood up again quickly. 

He came face-to-face with a familiar figure. 

“Mihawk?!” Shanks yelped, surprise written across his face. 

“Akagami,” Mihawk responded, lips pressed in a hard line. He surveyed Shanks over—he looked older, now, the baby fat that once lined his cheeks and jaw diminishing somewhat. He now wore a white, striped shirt, along with black shorts and a straw hat. He had also packed more muscle and height on his body—the last time he’d seen him, Shanks was a short, lanky kid. 

Shanks was taken back for a moment. “Akagami?” 

Mihawk glanced back at him coldly, turning away from Shanks to survey the rest of the ship. He’d crash landed in a fairly large ship, made up of dark planks and black sails. A jolly roger hung ahead, and the back rose up reminiscent of a cabin with railings along the sides.

Overall, a standard sailing vessel. Around him, the pirates of the crew had pulled out their weapons, readying themselves in response. Mihawk sighed internally, sheathing Raitoningu and putting his hands up. 

“I was thrown here by marines. It was not my intention to board this vessel,” Mihawk intoned, unmoving.

Rayleigh sheathed his sword as well, walking past the crowd as they parted around him. 

“I’ve seen you before,” he commented, fixing his glasses slightly. “I am the first mate of the Roger pirates, Silvers Rayleigh. Your name?” 

Mihawk blinked in surprise, not expecting the man to undraw his sword so soon. “Dracule Mihawk.” 

“Hey, Shanks!” Rayleigh called out, turning his head to look at said person. “You were his friend back at Tukimno right?” 

“Yeah,” Shanks nodded, his eyes slightly turned away from Mihawk, as if ashamed. “He’s not the type of person to lie….though the last time we'd met was two years ago.” 

Mihawk slowly relaxed his hands, making sure they could still see where they went, although he wanted to tighten them into fists. And maybe hit Shanks in the face in the process. 

  
  


_He got off his boat, the tip of it hitting the familiar white banks of sand. A few people looked up from their work—cutting wood, hammering nails into a new ship, weaving baskets—before a few of their faces lit up._

_“It’s little Mihawk again!”_

_“Oi! Go over and tell Rina! She could use some good news, after that sake incident!”_

_“Ahaha, good times! Alright, I’ll tell her.”_

_It took everything for Mihawk not to retort back for that first statement. He nodded in acknowledgement at their words, tying up Navigator once more and walking across the main town’s path._

_A few minutes later, as he was walking to Tam’s house, he felt a presence at his right. Mihawk ducked down, hands automatically grasping at Raitoningu’s hilt before he saw Rina fly over his head._

_She crashed into the bushes along the side road, spluttering out leaves from her mouth as she popped out. Then, she grinned sadistically, knuckles cracking slowly._

_“Hey brat, your observation haki’s gotten better!” Rina exclaimed. “Ya wanna test it out some more?”_

_“No thanks,” Mihawk replied automatically. He would’ve liked a good spar, but he wasn’t here to do that—he was here to meet up with Rina, Tam, and Shanks again. First one down already._

_Mihawk felt a second presence at his side, taking one step to the right as a blurred figure grasped where he was a second ago. The figure disappeared into the bush to the left of Rina, before hands grasped the foliage and moved the sides to reveal Tam’s slightly scratched face._

_“You weren’t supposed to dodge that!” She complained, shaking the debris out of her messed up hair._

_“My bad,” Mihawk replied insincerely. He couldn’t help but feel slightly touched though, that she was willing to….throw her entire body weight on him for a hug._

_“You don’t mean that at all!” She yelped again, this time tackling him and succeeding. Mihawk hesitantly brought his outstretched hands around her, reciprocating the hug. Then, they both felt a pair of strong arms curl around them, lifting them into the air._

_“Lemme join too!” Rina exclaimed, grinning widely. They had another brief moment, reveling in their reunion, before Rina let go of the both of them._

_“You haven’t seen the red-haired brat, have ya Hawky?” Rina asked, ruffling up his hair. He slapped her hands away, though she kept doing it until he gave up altogether._

_“No, I haven’t had contact with him since the day we left,” Mihawk responded, turning to Tam. “Has he called you?”_

_Tam shook her head. “No—I’m worried something happened to him.”_

_Mihawk frowned, finding it unusual that Shanks had not updated Tam on his position._

_“It’s not impossible,” he said slowly, shifting his grip on his backpack. “Let’s wait a bit more before we jump to conclusions.”_

_Rina and Tam looked at each other, then at him, and nodded._

_—_

_They waited._

_They waited and waited and waited, until clear blue skies became dusty oranges, then to inky black, until three days passed in a flash._

_Shanks never appeared._

  
  


“Is that so?” Rayleigh asked, rubbing one hand over a bearded chin. He took another once-over at Mihawk. “So what are your plans now, Hawk-eyes?” 

At the mention of his epithet, Mihawk’s eyes narrowed. “I only need a new ship, since my previous was destroyed by the marines.”

“Sorry, don’t have that!” A new voice exclaimed, a boisterous face appearing. He rubbed the ends of his mustache, grinning widely, the red captain’s coat fluttering behind him like the jolly roger above. “Eh, we can just get him to the next island, Rayleigh!” 

“ _What_?!” Rayleigh burst out, clocking Roger in the head. “We can’t just accept everyone who randomly appears in front of us—” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Roger whistled, waving Rayleigh off. “He doesn’t seem to be lying. Hey kid, is that all you want?” 

“Yes,” Mihawk replied simply. 

Roger turned to Rayleigh, gesturing as if to say, _I told you so_. “Uahaha! See? It’s fine!” 

Rayleigh just let out a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t think you’ll change your mind regardless of what I say. Fine.” 

From the corner of his eye, Mihawk saw a blue-haired boy with a beanie and bright red nose go up to Shanks, whispering in his ear. Shanks pursed his lips, whispering back after a moment. Mihawk felt an indescribable feeling rise in his chest, focusing on Roger and Rayleigh again. 

“Don’t be up to no good, alright?” Another crewmate said to Mihawk, almost just as tall as Roger. A pair of round sunglasses sat upon his nose, two black wisps of hair in front of his face and ponytail whirling around in the wind. “Otherwise something bad might happen to you.” 

He grinned, rolling up his shirt sleeves, which were slipping before. 

“Gaban, your sunglasses are falling off again,” Rayleigh pointed out, before turning to Shanks. “Hey Shanks, show your friend around. You too, Buggy.” 

“Ok Ray-san,” Shanks replied, still unable to look Mihawk directly in the eyes. The red-nosed kid noticed this, tilting his head in confusion, before protesting angrily, “me too?!” 

“Alright, get back to work!” Rayleigh called out again, cracking his knuckles in response to the grumbling that followed. “And you! Roger! Stop sneaking into the kitchen!” 

“Spoil-sport!” Was the ensuing reply, Roger’s head peeking out from inside the back cabin structure. 

The crew began dispersing back to their duties, and although Rayleigh also headed to the masts to check the sails, Mihawk could feel his eyes still checking up on them. 

Shanks sighed, gesturing to the red-nosed kid. “Buggy, this is Mihawk. Mihawk, Buggy.” 

Buggy held out a hand, to which Mihawk took. “Nice to meet you.” 

Mihawk nodded in reply, letting go after a brief handshake. 

“He’s only being civil with you cause you look scary,” Shanks snorted, arm crossed. Buggy yelped in anger, suddenly bringing his hands up defensively. 

“Who says I’m afraid?! You’re the one who’s scared of sea lettuce now because of—”

“You’re not allowed to bring that up!” 

“Oh? I can if I want to! Watch now—” 

_They seem close,_ Mihawk thought as he watched the two bicker. That was to be expected, though—they were crew mates. 

“Right, we have to show him the ship!” Buggy exclaimed in the middle of their argument, glancing at Mihawk. “Just follow us, alright?”

Mihawk looked back at him. 

Buggy scooted slightly behind Shanks. 

* * *

  
  


“...And here is our room,” Shanks finished, opening a door towards the front of the hallway to the right, where a quaint room was presented. Four hammocks were strung up, two above each other, and there was a wooden cabinet in the middle, underneath a porthole. 

A few detritus were scattered here and there—books on various islands, a dagger, a few chess pieces knocked down on an abandoned chess board. One wax candle sat in a hurricane holder, the candle wick unlit, since it was daytime. 

“You can put your items here,” Shanks said, gesturing to the top hammock. A small step ladder was placed at the bottom, underneath the lower hammock. Mihawk nodded, taking off his backpack and placing both that and his hat on it. 

Then, he took off his shoes, climbing onto the hammock. 

“I’m taking a nap,” Mihawk explained, peeking his head over the edge. He paused, before saying one last thing: “...Thank you.” _For the accommodations, again_. 

“You can thank Captain,” Shanks just replied, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

* * *

  
  


“What was that all about?” Buggy asked Shanks as they sat atop the crow’s nest, watching out for any enemy ships. Buggy lowered his binoculars, peering at him curiously. 

Shanks let his head fall back upon the mast, sighing. “I messed up, big time.” 

“Well, that’s no surprise, but how? And also, you know Hawk-Eye Mihawk?!” 

“Maybe it’s ‘knew’ now,” Shanks muttered, shifting his gaze at the setting sun. “...He helped free my home island from pirates two years ago. We got close because of that.” 

Buggy looked off into the distance again, shifting the wheels on his binocular. “Then why’s he so cold to you?” 

A breeze came in from the front, the wisps of wind causing Shanks’s red hair to flutter around lazily. In front of them, the burning sun glowed bright golden, dim orange and red dusting the skies. 

“I broke a promise to not only him,” Shanks started, gripping the bottom of his shirt with a clenched fist. “But to two other people.” 

Buggy glanced at him from the corner of his eye, before looking at the horizon again. 

“Maybe you should apologize to him first then. It’s awkward enough being between you two.” 

Shanks just stared at him. 

“What?!” Buggy squawked indignantly, getting defensive. “Is that not an option for your pea-sized brain?!” 

“You’re giving me advice,” Shanks replied, slowly getting into a grin. “Almighty Buggy-sama giving his wisdom to a peasant like me? Who would think that?” 

“This is a one time thing! What’s so funny about it you idiot?!” 

* * *

  
  


Mihawk was awoken hours later by Buggy and Shanks, since it was dinnertime. In all honesty, he felt like going back to sleep, though Shanks insisted on him eating. 

_He’s acting the same,_ Mihawk thought as he was led to the dining room. It was almost as if nothing had changed, but subtly, there was…something different. Like a translucent barrier, which Mihawk didn’t feel the need to change. 

Somewhere deep inside, though, he disagreed. 

“You’re a bounty hunter, right Hawk-Eyes?” Gaban asked, plonking down next to his seat, which was towards the end of the table. 

Internally, Mihawk sighed, though outwardly, he nodded in reply. Gaban took out a bounty poster suddenly, thrusting it in his face. 

“Dracule Mihawk” were the blaring words in the middle of the poster, bold against the faded paper. The bounty amount was 5,000,000, which was not too impressive in comparison to the bigger fish on the Grand Line—even though he wasn’t even intending to be wanted. 

The picture showed him with Raitoningu drawed out, a cold look on his face even when the edges of a magma fist could be seen on the edges of it. Two halves of a cannonball were to the sides of his boat, heading towards the dark water. 

_They work fast,_ Mihawk thought. 

“Looks like you’re the same as a pirate now!” Gaban exclaimed, grinning. 

Mihawk stared for a moment more, slowly blinking his eyes.

“...What a pain,” he replied, thinking back to the marine ships he’d encountered along the way. It was exciting to be chased around by stronger opponents, but also slightly irritating, as it would hinder his pirate chases. 

Gaban burst out laughing. “You don’t seem fazed at all about being hunted down by the World Government!” He took a bite of the steak, suddenly turning over to the cook to compliment him. 

Mihawk took a sip of the soup cautiously, after deeming it alright to eat. The pirates were lively, conversing with one another while eating, Roger’s boisterous voice adding to the atmosphere. They all seemed close to each other. 

Mihawk felt as if he was intruding on the spirited scene. 

* * *

“Mihawk,” Shanks said, trailing after said person when he’d left the dining room early. Mihawk paused in the dark hallway, watching the warm light spill over Shanks’s figure right outside the door. 

“What?” He asked, turning around. 

Shanks shifted his feet. “Can I talk to you?” 

“...Alright,” Mihawk replied. He had no qualms about hearing what Shanks had to say, but whatever it was, it’d better be worth it. Otherwise, it would just be a waste of time trying.

“Then, let’s go to the poop deck!” Shanks suggested, looking relieved. 

“Meet you there, then,” was Mihawk’s departing words, the only indication he’d left being the curtain fluttering in front of another room’s porthole. 

Shanks blinked.

“He’s gotten faster?!” 

* * *

Mihawk leaned over the railing, watching the night waves lap at the sides of the moving vessel. Soft waves of foam trailed behind, leaving behind a white path, stark against the dark ocean. It was a clear night, the full moon casting a bright glow down onto the main deck.

He heard a rustle right next to him, another figure coming up to rest their arms against the cold wood of the railing. 

“...I’m sorry,” Shanks said somberly, turning to Mihawk. His lips were set in a hard line. “I know this isn’t an excuse, but the day we were supposed to meet again, two years ago…” 

_“Where’re you trying to go?!” Buggy exclaimed, grabbing Shanks, who was struggling weakly against his hold. His face was red with a fever, shivers wracking his body ever so often._

_“I need to get my transponder snail!” Shanks gritted out, holding his stomach in pain. “Buggy, can you grab it for me?”_

_“Fine! But don’t ask me any other time, alright?”_

“...I caught an illness by accident, and because it was contagious, I accidentally spread it to my transponder snail as well.” 

Shanks furrowed his eyebrows, leaning one arm over the edge of the railing. 

“It died, just a few hours later. That was the first time I couldn’t call back to Tam—”

“So what happened the next year?” Mihawk asked, crossing his arms over the railing. . 

Shanks looked down, this time looking far more guilty than before. “I was an idiot—I did get a new transponder snail, so I got a new number, but I never actually came back to Tukimno. I was selfish, caught up in the adventures I’d go on as Roger’s crew, and I broke my promise to Tam, Rina, and—and you.” 

He grasped the edge of his straw hat, taking it off and hanging it by the strings behind his back. Then, his knees hit the deck, and his forehead made an audible _thud_ as it hit the wood. He placed his hands just in front of his head. 

“Again, I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry—I never communicated where I was with my precious people, and didn’t even meet up again with you guys even when I had the chance to! And because of my selfishness, I hurt you and Tam and Rina—” 

Mihawk graspd Shanks by the shoulders, lifting him up again. Piercing golden eyes met obsidian ones, one seemingly emotionless, the other, filled with remorse. 

“Don’t apologize to me,” he glowered, letting go just as quickly. “And don’t lower your head to me either, have more dignity!”

Shanks looked confused.

“Apologize to Tam and Rina, they were the ones most concerned for you,” Mihawk continued, hands settling on Raitoningu. “And prove you’re sincere with your actions.” 

Then, with a flick of his jacket, he strode off and left.

* * *

Shanks watched him storm off in silence, before leaning against the railing again, letting his head drop slightly over his back. He felt the cold breeze brush against his face, watching the cloudy trails of white appear and disappear behind the ship’s aft end. 

_He hasn’t changed_ , Shanks thought, before shaking his head. _What have I been doing?_

It wasn’t like him, at all. How could he have been so neglectful—so selfish? Especially to those he owed his life to. 

_I have to make it up to them._

Determination and a slight hope flared against his chest, pushing the heavy guilt and remorse up just the tiniest bit. 

This...

….well, this was something he _had_ to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Setting and Characters so far:
> 
> Tukimno (West Blue):  
> -Where Shanks is born  
> -Mayu (town medicine woman, saved Tam's life)  
> -Rina (bounty hunter, haki-user)  
> -Fuku (dead, former ?)  
> -Tam (Shanks's childhood friend. Daughter of Kazuo and Irina)  
> -Three peaks on surrounding mountains: Avaco, Vylkonos, and one more
> 
> Westenraa (East Blue):  
> -Where Mihawk was born (he's 16 currently)  
> -Devastated by volcanic explosion, kinda like Pompeii
> 
> Rujol (East Blue)  
> -Where Kazuo sets up shop (former pirate, don't know which crew)
> 
> Roger Kaizoku:  
> -Roger (50)  
> -Rayleigh (first mate, 51)  
> -Shanks (12)  
> -Buggy (12)  
> -Gaban 
> 
> Marines:  
> -Borsalino (31)  
> -Sakazuki (28)


	8. From You, to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stuff happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally caught up with the manga!

“ —ke up! It’s time to wake up!” 

Mihawk groaned internally, drowsily cracking one stiff eyelid open. He was starting to miss traveling on his own—he never had to wake up at a specific time before. 

Then, he turned his head, almost jolting back on instinct when he saw a familiar mess of red hair at his side. 

“Hey Mihawk! I need to ask you something!” Shanks exclaimed, both hands clenched around the side of his hammock. Mihawk grunted, irritated, closing his eyes once again. 

“What?” 

  
“Do you have Tam’s number?” 

"Yes,” Mihawk replied, feeling the slow lull of the ship lull him back into the gentle embrace of sleep. _It’s too early for this_. “...Give me five minutes.” 

* * *

“It’s been five minutes!” 

Mihawk dug his face back into the pillow. 

* * *

“Can I get Tam’s number now?” Shanks asked, popping his head into the bathroom. Mihawk blankly gazed at the mirror in front of him, reflecting Shanks’s head in the doorway. His skin looked a bit paler today—it was probably the lack of sleep again. 

Mihawk grumbled around the bristles of the toothbrush stuffed in his mouth. 

“What?” 

Another indecipherable response. 

“I’ll just come back when you’re awake!” 

* * *

“Mihawk!” Shanks popped up again behind Mihawk, looking over his shoulder. Mihawk was shining Raitoningu, glancing back from the corner of his eyes to see Shanks gazing eagerly back. On his right, Buggy was reading a map, occasionally circling landmarks on the aging parchment. 

“Got it,” Mihawk sighed, tossing Shanks a piece of paper. Shanks’s hands reached out for the paper, before a gust of wind suddenly blew and threw the thin paper out into the ocean. He yelped in surprise, both his and Mihawk’s eyes widening, before Shanks grabbed the railing and hauled himself over it. 

Buggy glanced up, before his eyes bulged out comically. “THAT IDIOT!” 

“He can swim,” Mihawk stated, though he put down his sword and honing oil regardless. “He’ll be fine.” 

“We’re on the Grand Line!” 

_Good point_. 

Mihawk and Buggy ran to the railing, looking down into the dark depths of the ocean. For a second, they couldn’t see anything but waves and foam, though before long, a small, dark red patch appeared and broke the ocean surface. 

“I got it!” Shanks called out, grinning. He eagerly waved the soaking piece of paper around, head bobbing in tandem with the waves. 

Mihawk sensed a presence suddenly, eyes snapping to the dark blob behind Shanks. 

“IDIOT, LOOK BEHIND YOU!” Buggy yelled, frantically pointing behind Shanks. Shanks looked back, eyes widening when an monstrous sea hippo rose up, shadow falling against the glare of the sun. 

“Uhhh….help?” Shanks squeaked out, a nervous grin plastered across his face. Mihawk threw one leg over the railing, planning to throw himself in, before he saw a purple blur whip past him in a flash. 

The next second, the sea hippo was knocked unconscious in one strike, it’s eyes rolling back as it fell with a loud _SPLASH_ on its back. 

“Ray-san!” Buggy cried out in relief, shoulder relaxing. Rayleigh held Shanks under one arm, his other out in front of him, standing atop the sea hippo’s floating body. Then, he jumped back on the ship, dropping Shanks, though he landed on his two feet. 

“Thanks Ray-san!” Shanks exclaimed, beaming. Rayleigh slammed his hand atop Shanks’s head, causing Shanks to yelp in pain and hold his head. 

“Stop putting yourself in unnecessary trouble!” He scolded, crossing his arms. Shanks gave an indignant glare in response, responding, “but I needed to get this paper!” 

He held out the wet paper, which drooped sadly under the added weight of water. Rayleigh took a glance at the row of numbers, eyes softening when he recognized it as a phone number. 

“You’re off this time, then,” he replied, turning around. He walked forward a step, looking back at the three boys. “But if you three do anything excessively stupid, then the sea lettuce comes back."

"NO," Shanks and Buggy both gasped at the same time. Mihawk stared at them quizzingly, wondering what happened to get then to react that way.

When Rayleigh's steps faded away, Buggy let out an audible sigh and went back to his maps, laughing sinisterly to himself every few seconds. 

Mihawk turned to Shanks. “I could’ve rewritten her number. You didn’t need to jump overboard for the paper.” 

Shanks gave a slight smile, the thin material held between his thumb and pointer finger as he put it up against the sun. The lead of the pencil contrasted against glowing rays. 

“I noticed Tam’s handwriting.” 

Then, a determined expression swept over his face, creasing his eyebrows. 

“If I can’t even get the number she wrote, then I can’t face her myself in the future.” 

* * *

Mihawk wandered around the deck after shining Raitoningu, feeling the eyes of the crewmembers behind him from time to time. He went up to the poop deck, the wooden area up there empty except for a few shipmates scampering across it every once in a while. 

He unsheathed Raitoningu, the glint of the sun bouncing off the silver of the blade, concentrating, until— 

_Slash._

—he sliced upwards, a bright green glow flowing out from his sword, whipping his hair back and disappearing amongst the clouds in a few seconds. 

_Still not enough,_ Mihawk thought, unsatisfied. 

“Haki at this age?” A voice came from his right, causing Mihawk to jolt outwardly. He snapped his head to the side, noticing the newcomer in a red coat sitting on the railing, one hand on his cheek and the other splayed relaxedly on the warm wood. 

It was Roger. Mihawk hadn’t noticed him, even with his observation haki. 

Mihawk nodded in response to Roger’s question. 

Roger grinned. “That’s good. If you’re gonna be out in the Grand Line, you ought to know these advantages.” 

“...Yeah,” Mihawk replied, turning his entire body in Roger’s direction. “Which island is your crew heading to?” 

“Water 7,” he said. “You came at the perfect time, actually! We both need new ships.” 

“You need a new ship?” Mihawk repeated, one eyebrow raised. 

“Yep, Grandy’s getting too old to carry us on,” Roger answered, a subdued smile on his face as he patted the railing. “It’s been a long journey, but unfortunately, there’s no way to keep her going.” 

Then, he waved away the topic. 

“Anyway, why’re you out on the Grand Line, at sixteen?” 

_He grasped the edge of the dinghy tightly, knuckles white against the rough wood. The clanging of steel and curdled screams rang in his ears, but he took one last glance at the jolly roger atop a pirate ship._

_A skull with twisting plants._

“Bounty hunting,” Mihawk replied, wiping away the last dredges of the memory from his mind. “For the Coral Pirates.” 

Roger tapped his chin, humming in response. “Where did I hear that before? Sounds quite familiar…” 

“Occupied an island,” Mihawk bluntly stated, watching a seagull smack into the ship’s sails. For an odd reason, he felt...almost reassured by Roger’s presence. He seemed the type of man who would naturally draw people in, like a magnet. 

“Hmmm, still don’t quite remember,” Roger muttered, tilting his head to the side. “Erm…” 

“It doesn’t really matter,” Mihawk said, readying his sword again for another practice swing. Suddenly, he was smacked on his head, making him wobble on the spot as he fought for balance. Mihawk placed a hand over his head, looking up at Roger’s figure bewilderedly. 

“Doesn’t matter my ass!” Roger said, arms crossed as he leaned down. “You shouldn't suppress what’s important to you, Mohawk."

“Mihawk,” Mihawk corrected. 

“You have the same eyes Rayleigh had when I first met him,” Roger continued, leaning against the railing. “Proud, indomitable, powerful—but most importantly, lonely. I’ve known people like you; rising stars on the ocean, strong, but unable to fully rely on anybody, and that…” 

He smiled. “...That didn’t quite end well. I’m not saying to fully trust somebody as soon as you meet them, but you don’t always need to rely on yourself.” Roger placed his hat over Mihawk’s head suddenly. Mihawk tipped it up, since the hat was too large on him. 

“If you’re ever feeling like you need somebody to lean on, then you can rely on me.”

* * *

Shanks paused on the staircase, opting instead to lower himself slowly back onto the main deck once he heard snippets of the private conversation. 

“I come from Westenra. They slaughtered my people, took them hostage, and left them to die—” 

The dots connected. 

“ —I will not stop to bring back what’s rightfully ours.” 

_“I have other obligations and dreams I must fulfill,” Mihawk said, looking at the clearing sky. “That being binded to a crew would only hinder.”_

_So that’s what it was,_ Shanks thought. 

* * *

“I don’t have anything for you today,” Rayleigh said, patting Shanks on the shoulder. “Do whatever you want for the rest of the day.” 

“Thanks Ray-san!” Shanks exclaimed, running off towards his room while waving backwards at Rayleigh. He crept inside the empty room, the two other occupants off training and on watch duty. The room was brightly lit by the rays shining through the porthole, sun midway in the clear sky. 

Shanks took out the thin paper containing Tam’s number, hesitating. Then, he swallowed, tapping the numbers into his new transponder snail, before it started ringing. 

_Brt. Brt. Brt._

Click. 

“Hello?” 

“It’s me,” Shanks started, drumming his fingers against the nightstand. 

“ _SHANKS_!” Was Tam’s excited response, her high-pitched scream making him hold the phone slightly away from his ears. “How are you? What have you been up to? When can you visit us?” 

Her warm answer made the guilt in his gut exponentially increase. 

“I’m sorry,” he replied, lowering his head. “I…I promised you and Rina to come back last year. And I didn’t—” 

“You were on the Grand Line, weren’t you?” Tam interrupted. 

Shanks was surprised by the question. “Yeah. We set sail on the Grand Line right after I joined the crew.” 

“Then how could you have come back, unless you went through the Calm Belt?” Tam inquired. 

“Don’t make excuses for me!” He protested into the phone, holding it up to his mouth. “Regardless, I didn’t even ask Roger if I could go back to Tukimno!” 

“You know the Calm Belt is almost impossible to cross right?!” 

“Mihawk did!” 

“And he almost died! It was just extremely lucky a marine ship was passing by!” Tam yelled back, unyielding. “It’s nice and all to see you two again, but don’t do it at the risk of your lives! I told you before—I won’t ever forgive you if you died on me!” 

Shanks shuffled around, sitting down on his hammock by the side of the nightstand. 

“Besides, Mihawk already told me what happened the first time,” Tam continued. “Sucks that your transponder snail died, but look! You got a new one—we can call again!” 

“Yeah,” Shanks replied, relaxing his shoulders slightly. “Anyways, I’m sorry again for the lack of communication—I swear, I’ll make up for it.” 

Tam sighed exaggeratedly into the phone. “You’re impossible. Fine, you’re an asshole. Happy now?” 

“Yeah,” Shanks agreed, closing his eyes, revelling in her warm presence again. It’d been a long two years since they’d departed—he’d seen so many bizarre islands, fought against powerful pirate and marine crews, touched legendary poneglyphs, gained an ever-increasing bounty, toiled through rough seas and breaking dawns—that he’d forgotten this feeling. 

A simplistic, rose tinted nostalgia, reminiscent of carefree days, clear oceans, and weaving flower crowns. 

They talked a little more, before Rina suddenly barged into the call. 

“Oi brat! What’s up with your crew, eh? Always in the newspaper!” 

“Rina—” 

“Not another damn apology out your mouth! I’ve heard it all earlier! Just call us weekly—or daily, I have no qualms with that—and tell us when you can visit us again! I’m sick of only looking at your bounty poster.” 

Shanks snorted. “That must suck.” 

“It does! Why the hell do you look so beat up and swollen? That’s the ugliest one I’ve seen thus far!” 

This time, he burst out laughing. “I remember! Crocus-san had to knock me out and take me to the infirmary, though not before _that_ picture was taken.” 

“So that’s the dude? He looks like he shoved a bird under his hat.” 

“Dahaha! Wait—” 

* * *

Mihawk watched the stars as they steadily shined among a dark blanket along the sky, a colorful nebula shimmering behind the bright dots. The moon was a thin crescent in the sky, and the boat rocked gently among the slow pitch of the waves. 

_Her star is gone,_ Mihawk thought, looking at another patch besides the empty space. _But his...it’s still there._

* * *

A day later, a golden mist appeared. 

“Captain! Fog at twelve o’clock!” Buggy shouted from the crow’s nest, leaning forward with binoculars smushed to his face. 

Mihawk peered in Buggy’s direction within the crow’s nest, seeing the misty gold sheen on the ocean, like a massive cloud front. It loomed over their ship imposingly, as if preparing to swallow them whole. 

“That’s weird,” Taro said, glancing at his log pose from below. “It’s going haywire—but I’m sure we’re still on course for Water 7.” For an odd reason, Mihawk found his chestnut-looking hair amusing. 

Rayleigh calmly stood to the side, giving out orders. “Taro, continue steering the ship in that direction! Doringo, proceed with inspection of the superstructure! Nozdon, have you finished with the inventory yet?” 

“Guns, supplies, and food are all good!” Nozdon called back as he inspected a sheet of paper, checking off little boxes with a pencil, as he sat on the benches near the back cabin. 

“This is so cool!” Shanks exclaimed, eyes flashing with excitement as the golden fog began swallowing them up. He held up a hand, waving it around in the wet mist—it felt just like normal fog, except differently colored and thicker. 

“I’ve heard about this type of fog before,” Gaban commented on the main deck, standing next to Rayleigh. “The gold mist with only two options—death, or riches. Sailors who go in either come out far wealthier than they came in, or never make it out.” 

“Riches?!” Buggy exclaimed, beri symbols in both eyes as he held his hands together happily. Then, he snapped out of that state, instantly becoming terrified. “Wait! Never make it out?! Hey, we still have time to turn back right?!” 

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Shanks replied, shooing away his worries. Buggy went up against Shanks’s face, glaring back angrily. 

“Did you even listen to Gaban-san you idiot?!” 

“Dahaha! It’s fine!” 

Mihawk blinked as the droplets condensed on his lashes, feeling his clothes start to become slightly damper. It was incredibly humid, though cold. Then, he saw a dark shape in the distance begin to emerge, like a materializing shadow. 

“There’s an island up ahead,” he commented, tapping Buggy on the shoulder, who lept into the air at the touch. 

“Aghh! Don’t scare me like that!” He yelled, before leaning over the railing. “Ray-san! Island up ahead!” 

“Got it,” Rayleigh responded, giving Buggy a thumbs up back. Then, he turned to Roger, asking, “Do you plan on docking?” 

“Of course!” Roger replied, one hand over his eyes as he gazed off. The island came closer and closer, and before long, the boat hit solid land. Giant pillars of rock sprung out from the ground, creating twists and walls in between each other, as sparse vegetation grew up top and on the sides. 

A beach greeted them, although the sand was gritty and giant rocks hindered the view from the coast. Wisps of golden mist slowly pumped out from the holes in the pillars, adding to the dim glow over the island—it looked mysterious. Perhaps depressing. 

“Let’s go!” Roger exclaimed excitedly, rushing out quickly. 

“Wait. This is an unknown island which seemingly appeared from nowhere,” Rayleigh warned, stopping Roger with a firm grasp on his shoulder. “We shouldn’t leave the ship without precautions.” 

“Wahaha! It’s fine! Besides, if there’s any strong opponents, I’ll have you all to back me up!” 

“That amount of flattery won’t work on me,” Rayleigh replied, coughing into his hand. “But...captain’s order I suppose…” 

“We’ve got your back, Captain!” Gaban cheered. 

Buggy rubbed the back of his neck, a goofy smile on his face. “Well...if you think so..”

_They’re falling for it,_ Mihawk deadpanned internally, sweatdropping. 

* * *

In the end, they decided to bring along half of the crew, with the other half guarding the ship—though most were deciding between wanting to go with their captain, or to stay in a familiar environment. 

“Buggy let’s go!” Shanks hollered as he climbed down the crow’s nest. 

Buggy shook his head, putting both hands in an X-shape. “No! I refuse!” 

“Mihawk! Catch!” Shanks called down—a flicker of confusion appeared in Buggy’s eyes—before he suddenly grasped the front of Buggy’s shirt and threw him down. 

_Of course,_ Mihawk thought irritably. 

“ _SHANKS!!_ ” Buggy screamed as he fell, clothes violently flapping with the whistling wind. He fell with an _oomph_ in Mihawk’s arms, who dropped Buggy soon after onto his ass. Buggy leapt up again, whirling around with an indignant face. 

Mihawk stared back. 

Buggy stomped down the gangway. 

* * *

Mihawk, Shanks, and Buggy followed close behind Roger and Rayleigh, as the rest of their group flanked them. Occasionally, Roger would comment loudly on a particular feature, or point to a side of a forked road. 

The tall, rocky cliffs stood over their figures, swatched in glittering mist. Every so often, a gust of wind would rush through the walls, creating an ominous, somber noise, like that of a conch shell. 

“This is so creepy,” Buggy whispered, shivering slightly. 

“Giant crow!” Roger called out suddenly, pointing to his right. On the side of a scraggly cliff, an enormous crow with white bands around its neck—about three meters tall, and two meters wide—sat upon a nest made of sticks. Gold and silver jewelry spilled from its beak as it cocked its head curiously at the moving lifeforms below. 

“I’ve never eaten one before,” he continued, drooling a bit, taking out his sword. 

“Roger—” Rayleigh warned, reaching out. Roger grinned, slashing upwards, slicing only the nest and missing the crow as it squawked angrily in protest. Then, it rushed downwards towards them as the treasures from its nest spilled out onto the floor. 

“YOU IDIOT!” Rayleigh shouted, clocking Roger on the head as he nonchalantly smiled. 

“Whoops, I missed! Hey, I held back a lot so the cliff is undamaged, Rayleigh!” 

The crow plucked Roger off from the ground. 

“...Ah,” was Roger’s response, still smiling as the crow’s beak squeezed down on Roger’s torso. It flew quickly away, the beating of its wings creating a flurry of winds. 

Mihawk was baffled—both at Roger’s nonchalance, and at the sudden turn of events. Rayleigh snapped out of his shocked state as the rest of the crewmembers yelled out in surprise, and Crocus took out a harpoon, pulling his right arm back, before throwing it swiftly at the crow’s departing figure. 

“We need to follow him!” Rayleigh shouted, running forwards. The harpoon went through the crow’s tail, and it squawked in pain, dropping Roger off beyond the cliffs a close distance away. 

“Nice one, Crocus!” Taro complimented, giving Crocus a pat on the back. Crocus simply nodded back. 

* * *

After running through what seemed like a labyrinth of cliffs, with Taro and Rayleigh leading the group, the path finally opened up into another gritty beach, boulders surrounding the entrance with only a small crack in the middle. 

“Roger’s just up ahead,” Mihawk commented, feeling out for Roger’s presence with observation haki. Shanks glanced at him through his peripherals, giving him an impressed look. 

Rayleigh held out a hand to halt the group, chest barely heaving from the run. On the other hand, Buggy was gasping for air, whereas Shanks and Mihawk were breathing hard, though not as exhausted. 

“I need to exercise more,” Shanks muttered under his breath. 

“Let’s go one at a time—I’ll go first, Gaban, you’re at our back,” Rayleigh ordered, squeezing through the entrance. Soon, it was Mihawk’s turn to go, and he walked through, feeling around again for Roger’s presence. 

Locating it, he snapped his eyes open. A marine ship was docked on the shore of the beach, although rather than the pristine appearance it usually sported, the ship was scraggly, its paint peeling and yellowing as the sails drooped sadly, littered with holes. 

There were skeletons on the beach, ragged clothes barely hanging on as the sand rolled towards the ocean with the wind. Gloomy clouds filled the sky, along with the ever-present golden mist. 

Roger was crouched besides a wooden box, expression much more somber than before. 

“...A marine ship,” Rayleigh commented, looking around. “Shipwrecked, by the looks of it. And old too.” Mihawk, Shanks, and Buggy walked towards Roger, stopping just besides his crouched figure. 

“It’s bad luck to touch a dead man’s treasure,” Roger stated, both hands on his knees. 

“We’re just going to leave it here?!” Buggy exclaimed, aghast. 

“Yep,” Roger replied as he stood up again. He dusted himself off. “Can’t do anything about it. Might as well bury the crew members and the treasure as well, so they can properly be sent off.” 

Rayleigh nodded to that, agreeing. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Mihawk noticed a shiny glint. Shanks noticed his expression as he walked forwards, stopping besides a skeleton wearing a dusty yellow short-sleeve and blue skirt. 

There was a cross on the locket buried halfway into the sand. Mihawk reached out with a hand, grasping it, rubbing the sand particles off. It was scratched and slightly worn, but still recognizable. Beside him, Shanks and Buggy peered curiously. 

_Westenra’s symbol._

Mihawk narrowed his eyes, clicking it open. Inside it was a well-kept photo of a man with a sun hat and glasses, a beautiful woman with curly black hair and a light green dress, and a tanned child with the same type of hair as his mother, goggles placed above his forehead. 

A bolt of lightning shot through him. 

“Kuzan,” Mihawk realized at the same time Shanks breathed out, “old man Fuku.” 

Buggy looked quickly among the two of them, bewildered. “You know these people?” 

“Yeah,” Shanks replied, eyes still glued onto the small figures. “Yeah, that’s definitely old man Fuku. He—he never told me about his family, though.” 

Then, he turned to Mihawk. 

“You know Aokiji?” 

_“You’re sleeping in my spot,” Mihawk deadpanned. A young teenager was atop a tree branch, back against the trunk, with a sleeping mask across his eyes. He grasped the edge of the mask, moving it up to reveal a single dark brown eye._

_“I don’t see your name on it,” he replied, one eyebrow raised._

_—_

_“Your friend’s here! Quit fiddling with that sword and greet him!”_

_“I know mom! I will be finished sharpening it soon!”_

Aokiji. Kuzan. A current captain under Marine instructor Zephyr. 

“Once,” Mihawk replied, thumb absentmindedly brushing away the finer particles of sand still left. “On my home island. We didn’t talk much.” 

“You grew up with him?!” Both Buggy and Shanks exclaimed, gaping at the small portrait. 

Mihawk blinked slowly. 

“...Yes,” he replied. Although they stopped talking after around middle school. Was it a big deal? He knew Kuzan had started growing a name for himself, but the kid Mihawk knew was always laid back, and kept out of the spotlight if he had the opportunity. 

“He’s one of the three fastest rising marine apprentices!” Buggy burst out, putting a hand out to count his fingers on. “There’s Akainu, Kizaru, and Aokiji. I heard they’ve apprehended over a thousand pirates, each of them!” 

“It’s just rumors!” Shanks reminded Buggy, nudging his side with a hard elbow jab. 

“Stop jabbing me so hard!” Buggy shrieked back, raising one fist up as the other hand rubbed his side gingerly. Mihawk mulled over his words, thinking back to all the newspapers he’d read over the past two years. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rumors turned out to be true. 

Then, a flash of gold came from the side of his eye, and he looked down. A miniature key was hanging from the locket’s string, rusty from the years of exposure and wind. Mihawk carefully picked it up, inspecting it carefully. 

A feather was carved into the metal, thin grooves delicately curled on the bow. 

“Eh? A key?” Shanks asked, peeking over his shoulder. Buggy also stopped arguing with Shanks, releasing the front of his shirt. 

“Wait—that’s a familiar symbol,” he continued. He reached into his short pockets, shuffling around a bit before pulling out a metallic blue feather on a necklace. “It’s Old Man Fuku’s...I didn’t think they’d be connected.” 

“Neither did I,” Mihawk replied, closing his fist over the locket. “I heard Kuzan’s in the 50th branch currently—I should be able to track him down after getting a new ship and give his rightful items back to him.” 

_In addition...perhaps it’s to repay a debt to Fuku._

Then, Shanks motioned for Mihawk to take out one hand, before placing the necklace on it. 

“If you’re going to do that...then I think you should have this. It’s better to give it to your friend rather than just have it on me.” 

Mihawk felt the cold metal seep into his skin, deciding to instead flick it back up and around Shanks’s neck. Shanks looked bewildered, starting to pull the necklace back up.

“If Fuku gave this to you, then don’t give it away so easily,” Mihawk explained bluntly. “Don’t downplay your worth.” 

Shanks was silent for a moment, before bursting into light hearted chuckles. “You’re right. You haven’t really changed, Mihawk.” 

“You haven’t either.” 

“Hey, we should get back to the group!” Buggy exclaimed, pointing towards Roger and the others, who were placing the skeletons into neat little holes. The familiar shovel Nozdon always carried was used to place the sand back into the makeshift burials. 

Mihawk gave a prayer over the skeleton in front of them. Shanks patiently waited besides him as Buggy went to get the shovel, the golden mist pumping out slowly from the cliffs behind them. 

* * *

“We’re done!” Roger called out, patting his hands together. “Let’s go!” 

“Got it!” Gaban yelled back, getting up from his crouch. Once they checked out around the area a bit more—there were a few treasure chests on the marine ship, although it seems they’d already been ransacked—before heading back the way they’d come from. 

“There’s only crows on this island,” Taro commented as they passed another crow and its nest for the fourth time in a row. The mist felt heavier now, the edges of it causing the cliffs besides them to appear murkier than before. The rocky walls surrounding them gave Mihawk a sense of deja vu, and he frowned in contemplation. 

“We’ve been passing the same crow for the last thirty minutes,” Rayleigh declared, stopping as he looked up at the familiar nest. “Brace yourselves.” 

Then, he glared. A familiar, crippling feeling came over around them from Rayleigh, the haki waves bursting out forcefully, causing the crow to squawk loudly before fainting. 

The entire group was able to keep their consciousness—even Buggy—although Mihawk could feel his knees almost give out. It was much, much stronger than Shanks’s from two years ago. 

“What was the point of that?” Buggy asked as he shook his head, using Shanks as a crutch. 

“I think Rayleigh’s making sure the crow isn’t causing the confusion,” Shanks replied. Mihawk furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the path ahead. 

“Why don’t we look at this island from above?” Crocus suggested, pointing up at the shrouded peaks. “We saw there was vegetation up there before.” 

Roger perked up. “I’ll check it out!” 

“No—” Rayleigh started, before Taro placed one hand on his shoulder. “Just go with him. Please.” 

A sigh. “Fine.” 

Roger grinned enthusiastically, seemingly unbothered by their situation. He gripped the protruding stones on the cliff tightly, flinging himself up and jumping from ledge to ledge. Rayleigh sighed again, following him close by. 

“Our captain’s a beast,” Nozdon—the one with the shovel—commented, craning his face up. “And Ray-san as well.” Buggy agreed, nodding his head. 

Shanks was staring off behind Mihawk and Buggy, eyes trained on the obscuring mist. Mihawk narrowed his eyes, feeling a threatening presence through his observation haki. Buggy glanced back cautiously as well, following both Shanks’s and Mihawk’s eyes. 

“What’re—” 

Mihawk unsheathed Raitoningu as Shanks took out his saber. Buggy hugged a burlap sack closer, taking out three daggers between his fingers. 

“There’s something—” Gaban began to say, before a swift, black blur zipped behind the group, sneaking out from the golden mist. Like lightning, it came in and out, though in a second, they noticed that— 

—Mihawk, Shanks, and Buggy were gone. 

* * *

“That’s weird,” Rayleigh remarked, standing on a ledge below Roger, who was digging his fingers into a shallow dip in the cliff. Roger glanced down with curious eyes. “We’re not making progress at all.” 

“Huh?” Roger asked. 

Rayleigh glanced down at the mist shrouding the view of the ground. “There’s something unnatural about this mist. It seems to elongate the paths heading up and back.” 

“It’s only been a couple minutes,” Roger pointed out, heaving himself up. “We saw there were tops to the cliffs when we came in.” 

“...Perhaps,” Rayleigh mused. 

* * *

“You can’t be serious,” Crocus gaped, harpoon still in hand. Gaban groaned loudly, setting both axes against his shoulders. 

“What’s up with this island?!” 

“I’m going to get them back,” Crocus added, quickly moving forward. The other crew members glanced at each other, before Gaban and Taro quickly followed behind Crocus. 

“Wait for Captain alright? We’ll be back soon!” Taro hollered behind him. 

“If he comes back before then, tell him where we’re going!” Gaban included, waving an axe behind. 

Nozdon sweatdropped, making eye contact with Doringo—a shorter man with spiky hair, and wings on his jacket. “Did we just let Gaban go?” 

“Hopefully Crocus can get the kids back,” Doringo replied, beginning to sit down. “We might as well wait here for now.” 

* * *

“What’s up with this thing?!” Shanks shouted over the whistling wind, attempting to get out of the crow’s beak. It was much larger compared to the other one, with three bands around its neck instead of one, carrying all three of them in its mouth. 

Mihawk slashed at the bird’s beak, although it left only a few scratches even with haki. It seemed to be made up of a dense, unyielding substance. It would probably be a good resource to make a shield out of. 

“Let go!” Buggy shrieked, attempting to open the crow’s beak further so that he could stab down at the softer areas. It was shut tight. 

“Can’t you detach yourself?!” Shanks yelled to Buggy, who gave him an incredulous look in return.

“You know how fast we’re going?! What if I miss and my hand’s gone forever?!” 

“Just throw one of your knives,” Mihawk suggested, one hand. “If you can’t do that, then give it to me.” 

“What if I miss and my knife’s gone forever?!” 

Mihawk almost threw Raitoningu at Buggy right then and there. He refrained from doing so, letting the irritation simmer down, before swiping one of Buggy’s knives. Buggy yelped in return, protesting, “wait, wait! I’ll do it!” 

Mihawk threw the knife. 

It missed—by a long shot. 

“Dahahaha!!” Shanks burst out laughing, both hands grasping on the top of the crow’s beak. 

  
Mihawk gave them both death glares. “It’s been awhile. Give me another.” Buggy threw him a scandalized look back, though he still complied. Perhaps he wasn’t irritating after all. Certainly less so than Shanks. 

This time, the knife hit the crow’s eyes. It squawked loudly and thrashed around, causing it to go off course and fly into a thick forest nearby, its heavy body breaking through several trees and crashing into a boulder at the end. Mihawk felt his head smash against the dense surface, pain bursting out despite his usage of armament haki. 

* * *

“Where are we?” Gaban asked, as they ran past another peak, the walls of the cliffs connecting the peaks blurring as they rushed towards another path. They went a different route from the other shipwrecked marine beach, following the crow’s presence, plus that of the three boys. 

“Depend on us!” Taro shouted as he ran to the side of Crocus. “Just...let Crocus and I do the thinking alright?” 

“ _Ahhh_? What do you mean by that?!” 

“It’s gone,” Crocus suddenly stated, furrowing his eyebrows. “I can’t feel their presence anymore.” 

“Well, we’ll keep following this path anyhow,” Taro quickly replied. “That’s weird, though…hopefully nothing bad happened to them.” 

* * *

_“Hey Mihawk,” Shanks said from his perch atop a familiar boulder, letting the morning breeze breeze through his bright hair. Mihawk cracked open one eye from his laid position next to him, feeling the warm sunshine dip across his skin in dappled spots._

_He hummed in response._

_“You’ve probably seen a lot more than me….” Shanks started, tilting his head. “So...you think I’ll be able to make it? Out in the ocean, away from Tukimno, I mean. As a pirate.”_

_Mihawk let his fingers curl against Raitoningu’s hilt leisurely. “If you believe you can do it, then you will be able to. If you don’t, then no.”_

_Shanks turned around, giving Mihawk a bright grin, the edges of his eyes crinkling._

_For some reason, Mihawk found himself unable to breathe._

_“Then, I want to be an honorable pirate and sail on tons of adventures—that’s my goal!”_

* * *

_Shanks saw the door open slowly, before an old fisherman appeared in the doorway._

_“You…” Fuku started gruffly, before slowly looking over Shanks’s face. “...That kid.”_

_“I’m Shanks! Here again,” Shanks greeted, waving a hand. “Do you need help today?”_

_Fuku moved to the side of the doorway, letting Shanks in. “Yeah. It should be good weather for fishing today. Perfect weather.”_

_“Who are these people?” Shanks asked suddenly, standing in front of a small table with a portrait on top of it. In the picture was a woman and a small boy._

_Fuku paused, glancing at the wooden frame once more. His eyes softened, reflected against the glass frames of the covering, though there was a bit of confusion within its depths._

_“....Important ones.”_

_Shanks wondered why he sounded so vague._

* * *

“I think you’re right Rayleigh!” Roger called down. 

Rayleigh sighed for the umpteenth time that day. “We should go check out the holes on the cliff sides that are producing the mist. Perhaps that can reveal a few answers.” 

“Sure, let’s go!” 

* * *

Mihawk woke up first, the first thing registering being the pain emanating from the back of his head. The second being the thick leaves above their heads, weighing down on the branches holding them up. 

They were in a forest glade, surrounded by dark green jungle trees and vines drooping down towards the ground. Bushes sprung up intermittently to the side, where smaller, rocky peaks emerged from the tree tops, this time unconnected from each other than the cliffs earlier. 

It seemed they were in another area of the island. 

Buggy was besides him, still within the unconscious crow’s beak, though Shanks was nowhere in sight. Mihawk dragged Buggy out, inspecting the spot they’d crash landed at. The crow was much, much larger than the first one they’d seen, laying against the boulder with cracks in a spiderweb pattern. 

No sign of red hair though. 

“Akagami,” Mihawk said, before placing both hands around his mouth. “SHANKS!” 

He put his hands down when the only sound that came back was his own echo. He looked around, noticing that the straight grass near the crow on the right was bent down, as if a weight was pressed upon it. The trail headed into the forest, the shadows seeming dark and foreboding in the dim lighting. 

There was a groan besides him as Buggy shook his head slightly, rubbing his head. “...What’s with the dancing coins?” 

He glanced at the crow, before his gaze flickered up to Mihawk’s face. 

Buggy’s face fell. “So that was a dream.” 

“Shanks is missing,” Mihawk replied, flicking off droplets from the mist that’d condensed on his shoulders. “He might be around the area. If not, then we should stick to the glade nearby, so that it’ll be easier for him to find us.” 

“He probably ran off by himself,” Buggy scoffed, wiping off the dirt on his cheek as he stood up. He shivered, wrapping his hands around his slightly damp clothes. “This island is weird, though. We need to get back to Ray-san as soon as possible.” 

Mihawk gave a nod back, walking where the grass trail went and inspecting around the vegetation. The foliage gave way to a path of broken branches and freshly-turned dirt, as if a rolling stone had rolled down over the greenery. 

“I think he went that way,” Buggy commented sarcastically. 

Mihawk started walking forward. “No doubt, red nose.” 

“NOSE?! WHAT’D YOU SAY—” 

Mihawk decided to tune him out, moving the heavy leaves and vines in front of him to the side. Raitoningu jingled excitedly at his hip, and he placed one hand over her hilt, before grasping it and swinging it out. 

“That’s not for me, is it—” 

He swiftly swung Raitoningu twice, two green glows simultaneously coming out and destroying the offending foliage in the way. 

“We’re just going to go into the mysterious dark place?!” Buggy squawked, shuffling behind Mihawk. “What if something jumps out?!” 

“Shanks is in there, somewhere,” Mihawk curtly replied. “We need to quickly find him and head back. If we don’t find him, then we’ll head back to the glade and wait.” 

Buggy gazed curiously at him. “For somebody who’s always annoyed at Shanks, you seem to really care about him.” 

Mihawk raised his sword threateningly. 

Buggy yelped, waving both hands around in alarm. “I’m just making an observation! Shanks talked a lot about you and his home island and I can tell he misses that part of his life a lot even though he’s really happy on Grandy and he’s been kind of depressed over your talks so you two should make up fully already, although it’s less suffocating to be around you two right now so that’s great—” 

“...For a red nose, you can be quite intuitive,” Mihawk commented, before beginning to walk into the undergrowth. 

“RED NOSE AGAIN?!” 

"If you want to be left alone, feel free to stay," Mihawk's voice came from the shadows.

"...I'll come along."

* * *

Shanks groaned as he woke up, grasping his head with one hand. The hand came back warm and bloody, to which he frowned. 

_Where am I?_ He thought, getting up slowly. Then, he stumbled, going against a tree for support, the dizziness overcoming him. His head throbbed in pain, and he glanced back to see a boulder cracked in the bottom center. 

He turned around, seeing the trail heading out of the forest, shadows obscuring the rest of it. 

There was the sound of leaves rustling suddenly, and a twig cracked. Shanks instantly grasped the handle of his saber, pulling it out quickly and holding it out. A dark shape slowly emerged from the shadows and he rushed towards it, the ringing of swords clashing echoing in the forest. 

“There you were,” Mihawk said, yellow eyes narrowing. Shanks lowered his sword, feeling the blood from the back of his head soak into his hair—not that it was noticeable from the color of his hair. Well, it was probably a bit darker than usual. 

“Mihawk! Buggy!” 

“How the hell did you fly all the way out here?!” Buggy exclaimed, looking around. “Anyway, let’s go back to the glade where we came from.” 

“Oh, there’s such a place?” Shanks asked curiously, taking a step forward on shaky legs, though they were much more controlled than the last time he’d attempted to walk. 

“Let’s go,” Mihawk said, leading them out of the dark forest. The mist curled over their shoes and along the backdrop, giving off a sense of anticipation and dread—as if anything could come out at any moment. 

Shanks gritted his teeth as they continued walking, feeling black spots appear in his vision. _Come on….just until the ship, please_. 

Buggy looked at him with a weird expression. “You’re quiet, Shanks.” 

“Have I really been? Sorry, this island just gives me the creeps!” Shanks replied cheerfully, one hand holding his saber out. “Besides, what’s this ‘glade’ place you’re talking about?” 

“Beyond this forest there should be an open field, which is just up ahead” Mihawk explained, eyes piercing. “....Shanks.” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re injured.” 

“I hit the boulder hard, but I should be fine,” Shanks replied, waving that comment away. “Don’t wo _r r y_ —” 

He couldn’t remember what happened next. 

* * *

Shanks started falling. Mihawk tossed Raitoningu to Buggy, dashing forward to catch Shanks around the waist. 

_Idiot…!_ He thought, eyebrows scrunching up as he checked Shanks’s body for injuries, to which he found one at the back of his head. 

“Is he okay?!” Buggy exclaimed, looking over Shanks’s unconscious form in Mihawk’s arms. Mihawk grabbed Raitoningu from his hands and sheathed her carefully. 

“He has a head injury,” Mihawk replied, moving Shanks carefully with one of his arms looped around his shoulders, setting him in the open grass field. “Red nose, open my backpack.” 

Buggy made an incomprehensible noise, but complied. “You have a whole medicine kit in here?” 

“I travel by myself. It would be unwise to go without one.” 

“Oh. Why do you travel alone anyway? Aren’t you technically a pirate now?” Buggy asked, plopping down near Mihawk, who was elevating Shanks’s head with his backpack. 

“I was, and still am, a bounty hunter.” 

“How’re you gonna bring the pirates in to collect their bounties if you’re being hunted by the World Government?” 

“....I’ll find a way,” Mihawk replied, cleaning the blood from Shanks’s head gently. 

Buggy shifted slightly. “Do you need help?” 

“Are you familiar with first aid?” 

“No,” Buggy replied, petulantly looking down at his shoes. “I don’t feel like doing nothing, though. Maybe there’s some way we can signal Ray-san, or the rest of the crew.”

“For somebody who’s always annoyed at Shanks, you seem to really care about him,” Mihawk commented. 

Buggy gaped in shock at him. “Di—Did you just use my own words against me?!” Mihawk almost cracked a smile, the tips of his lips twitching slightly. Almost. 

“Anyway, you know you can probably join our crew anytime,” Buggy commented, this time leaving Mihawk surprised. 

“Why,” Mihawk asked bluntly. 

“Well, Roger and Ray-san have taken a liking towards you, and I think…” Buggy hesitated. “...I think it’ll be less lonely. The only ones around my age are Shanks and myself, and although the crew is good enough, it would be nice to have somebody else around our age join.” 

Mihawk began bandaging Shanks’s head up with gauze. “I’ll stay until Water 7. Then...there’s someone I need to meet. I appreciate the offer, though.” 

“Yeah,” Buggy replied. “I thought that’d be the case.” 

* * *

Shanks started stirring, a low groan accompanying his arrival to consciousness. 

“...What happened?” 

“You collapsed,” Mihawk replied, leaning over him as he checked the bandages around his head one more time. “Next time, don’t push yourself too hard when you have injuries.” 

“If this is heaven, then you’re one mean angel,” Shanks muttered, squinting up at Mihawk, who stared at him back, unamused. 

Buggy had a disgusted expression on his face. “Is he trying to flirt?” 

“You have pretty eyes. They look like lemons.”

“Nevermind, he is.” Buggy sat cross legged on the ground, waving one hand over Shanks’s face. “Hey, can you tell who I am?” 

“...A clown?” Shanks replied deliriously. 

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU—” 

"Not now," Mihawk said. "Perhaps later when the patient isn't half-dead."

He suddenly got up, placing a hand on Raitoningu, saying, "Red nose, stay with Shanks. I will look for a path out of the enclosure—if help comes, or you need help, just shout." 

Buggy looked conflicted for a moment, before he answered, "I-I'll go instead."

Mihawk raised an eyebrow. 

"I'll suit that job better," Buggy added, though his eyes kept darting at the dark shadows by the trees. "I'm better at running if anything comes out, and my devil fruit makes it hard for others to injure me. If anything attacks here, you're better suited to defend Shanks."

Mihawk glanced at his severely shaking legs. "Good point. But are you going to be able to follow through?"

"The great Buggy-sama isn't ever afraid!" Buggy replied in a confident voice, pointing at himself. "Watch me!" Then, he turned around, heading towards the forest. 

He looked back. "I'm going into the dark area!" He inched forward some more. "I'm not scared at all!"

Frankly, Mihawk was slightly impressed he even brought up the suggestion. He looked back at Shanks, who gazed back, eyes slightly clearer than before. Mihawk sat back down, though he unsheathed Raitoningu and kept her by his side.

There was a brief touch at his fingertips, before Shanks's warm hand enveloped his. Mihawk looked at him, curious.

"Can you stay like this?" Shanks requested.

Mihawk gripped Shanks's hand back in response. 

Shanks exhaled slowly, eyes closing. "...My mother used to do this when I was a kid, before she died of an accidental explosion."

Mihawk listened closely.

"My father, on the other hand, never used to associate himself with our family, even when he would come home after his pirate voyages. Even when I told him about the other village kids picking on me, all he really did was tell me to man up." 

Shanks sighed.

"I was always told I resemble him the most. I was told that I would grow up to become a great pirate, like he was, but I never really thought about it closely until I realized our similarities later on. But I...don't want to be someone like him, who would abandon their family and friends and treat them as strangers. As the years passed, though, I felt like I was becoming more and more like him."

Shanks opened his eyes to look at Mihawk, pursing his lips. 

"Do you...think I can become a good pirate?"

Mihawk squeezed his hand. "You'll become one of the best." 

_I have no doubts about it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Setting and Characters so far:
> 
> Tukimno (West Blue):  
> -Where Shanks is born  
> -Mayu (town medicine woman, saved Tam's life)  
> -Rina (bounty hunter, haki-user)  
> -Fuku (dead, former ?)  
> -Tam (Shanks's childhood friend. Daughter of Kazuo and Irina)  
> -Three peaks on surrounding mountains: Avaco, Vylkonos, and one more
> 
> Westenra (East Blue):  
> -Where Mihawk was born (he's 16 currently)  
> -Devastated by volcanic explosion, kinda like Pompeii
> 
> Rujol (East Blue)  
> -Where Kazuo sets up shop (former pirate, don't know which crew)
> 
> Roger Kaizoku:  
> -Roger (50)  
> -Rayleigh (first mate, 51)  
> -Shanks (12)  
> -Buggy (12)  
> -Gaban, Crocus, Doringo, Nozdon, Taro
> 
> Marines:  
> -Borsalino (31)  
> -Sakazuki (28)


End file.
